Keep Holding On
by Spaidel
Summary: Johanna Mason, the girl that no one cares about, had been selected to be the female tribute in the 68th Hunger Games. Her plan was simple - act like a scared little girl, then in the Games be the killer that she had to be in order to survive. Repost.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I decided to delete all the chapters and upload them again after I check them. Because, after I read the first chapter again a few days ago, I realized I had an awful lot of mistakes. So, I'm going to try and get rid of all of my mistakes and upload the whole thing again.**

**Now, why do I have oh-so-many mistakes? That's probably because English is not my first language. Yep, that's sometimes a problem.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 <strong>

"Johanna, _get up_!"

I groaned and put my pillow over my face, blocking the noise that came from Sabrina Gold, an assistant here in the orphanage of District Seven. God, I hated her.

"Johanna, get the fuck up!"

"Go away, you brainless bitch," I swore silently, but got up nonetheless. I wasn't a morning person. Or a noon person or an evening person. Hell, I hated every second of the day. Spending time here in the orphanage, hearing some stupid stories from the brainless kids that lived here with me... that was one of the worst things that anyone could ever imagine.

"Johanna, did you get up?" I saw the door knob turn, but the door didn't open.

"God dammit Johanna, how many times did I tell you not to lock the door?" Sabrina shouted from the other side of the door.

"Oh, take a pill," I murmured and still didn't open the door; it was so entertaining to annoy her. That woman just tended to get on my nerves.

"Fine, be that way; just so you know, this attitude of yours will get you in trouble one day. No one likes an arrogant, loud bitch. You need to come and eat breakfast, and then clean yourself up. There's Reaping today." She told me this and walked away, thank god.

I exhaled loudly and walked to my closet. I took out the only dress I owned; a dress that once belonged to my mother. It was red and long, which combined pretty well with my brown short hair, brown-honey eyes and tanned skin.

The dress wasn't extraordinary or something; the red color started to fade, the fabric was stiff and there were some torn places next to my feet, but it was the best dress I could afford for such a 'special' occasion as the Reaping.

After I put the dress on me, I walked to the door and unlocked it. Oh, how much I hated mingling with the other kids in here. None of them was worthy of my time.

No one talked to me when I sat down alone next to a small table; they all feared me, of what I might do to them if they said one word to me. I just wasn't a people person.

I didn't mind the solitude though; I actually preferred it that way. I didn't have friends, and I didn't need friends; I was better off on my own.

When breakfast was over, one of the other assistant here, a guy named Tony Branch, cleared his throat and said, "All of you need to go to your rooms and get organized to the Reaping. We are supposed to head out to The Main Square in about half an hour, so you are expected to finish getting ready by then."

Most of the kids got to their feet and headed to their rooms. I didn't need to go, seeing that I was already ready, so I just sat there, looking absentmindedly at the small orange that was in front of me. I hated oranges, and everyone knew that. I guess that's why the assistants kept giving me oranges for every meal of the day.

When all of the kids were ready we started walking towards The Main Square. I really hated Reaping days; not only it was just a stupid, unbearable day, it also messed up with my day terribly; every day I went to school, growled at the teachers and went to the woods to let off some steam. On Reaping days and on some other stupid holidays I wasn't able to take my axe and swing it at the big, stable trees. I really missed it.

When we got to The Main Square I walked immediately to the sixteen year olds section. There were kids my age there that I think I saw once on the street, but never took much notice of them. I wasn't a talkative girl and I found it pretty insufferable to spend time with kids my age, or in any other age for that matter.

I guess my dislike for other human beings came from my family; my dad taught me to be indifferent and stand for my beliefs and principals. When he died by peacekeepers (he didn't take well orders and the peacekeepers didn't like that), all of the things he taught me just kind of mixed together, and now I was, like Sabrina always told me so kindly, an 'insufferable, arrogant, loud, bitchy, stupid girl who doesn't know when to shut up.' Yep, that's me.

I stared at the improvised stage with only mild-interest. There were several people on there; one was our mayor, Bradley Stimps, an old guy who was probably the richest person in whole District Seven. Then there was Jensen Flaive, who was District Seven's escort. His skin was green, and he looked grumpy. He looked like some kind of a weird, brainless, Capitol monster.

Then there were the two mentors; first there was the male mentor, a guy in his forty who won a long time ago. His name was Joshua Calvin, and he had brown hair and blue eyes. He wasn't handsome, but then again, he didn't win the games by being handsome; he won the games by killing off all the other tributes, including two of the six careers. I respected the man for that reason only.

The female mentor was thirty-something years old, and several wrinkles started to show on her face. She looked too old to be in her mid-thirty. Her name was Teresa Bain, and she won her games by just outlasting the others. She didn't even kill one tribute.

When the Square was finally filled with the whole District (which, admittedly, wasn't a lot), the mayor stood up and walked towards the microphone. He started lecturing us about some old, ancient history involving the Capitol and Panem and the Games and the districts. His voice was dull, the speech was boring and the whole thing was just plain tiresome.

He finally finished with his speech, and Jensen (who I decided to name Frankenstein, like this ancient brainless green creature that was invented so long ago) walked towards the microphone and said in a cheerful tone that sounded really fake, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor." Oh, what a stupid sentence. I guess the Capitol people thought it was clever. Well, that just showed how low their IQ really was.

"Girls first," Frankenstein said and moved to stand behind the girl's reaping bowl. I wasn't nervous; I didn't allow myself to think of a possibility where I'll be the one going to The Hunger Games.

Frankenstein picked a slip of paper from the bowl and said, "And the lucky girl is . . . Johanna Mason."

Of course it was me.

Dammit.

I was strong. I knew I was. But I was only strong with an axe. I wasn't skilled with other weapons, I didn't practice throwing spears or shooting arrows or stabbing people with knives. I was only good at chopping things off. If I wouldn't have an axe in the Games . . . well, then I'll be doomed, probably. Would I be able to run to the Cornucopia and grab an axe? Probably not, I'd die by one of the Careers. If they'll think I'm dangerous, then they'd kill me for sure before I'd be able to grab an axe.

So they'd had to think that I was not a threat. At all.

And with that on my mind, I put my hands on my face and started to sob loudly.

I knew that it would be a problem with the lack of tears in my eyes, so I poked my index fingers in them, which caused them to tear up and swell. At least I was dedicated to my act.

Some of the kids in the crowd looked at me with incredulous looks. They didn't believe that Johanna Mason, the girl that didn't care about anything, was crying her eyes out here. Others actually looked sympathetic.

Morons.

I made my way to the stage and stood next to Frankenstein. He tapped me on the back annoyingly. "There there, everything will be okay," he said in a tone that he probably thought sounded fatherly-like. When he saw I wasn't going to stop with the crying, he walked to the boys' reaping bowl and said awkwardly, "I guess the excitement just got the better of her. And now for the boys." He tucked his hand inside the bowl and searched for a slip of paper that will content him. When his hand reached a piece of paper that he apparently liked, he took it and unfolded it.

"And the lucky boy is . . . Sebastian Wood."

Sebastian Wood was a fifteen year old boy, who looked like a tiny twig. Great. At least he won't be a competition in the arena.

When Sebastian walked on stage, I noticed that he was shaking terribly.

What a loser.

"Johanna and Sebastian, shake hands," Frankenstein said stiffly, and I, staying true to my act, sniffled and took Sebastian's hand shakily.

When the Reaping was over, I walked slowly with some Peacekeepers who led me to a small, comfortable room in the justice building. They told me I have an hour to see my loved ones. I knew no one would come to see me.

As I predicted, no one came. I just wasn't important to anyone, no one cared about me. And I didn't give a damn about it.

I spent the hour that was given to me thinking about what will happen in the game and planning ahead. I couldn't back out of my plan about appearing weak so the other tributes won't take any notice of me, and I didn't want to. It was a good plan, my only chance at winning the games. And it will definitely be pretty damn entertaining for the Capitol.

Not that I cared.

I decided not to tell my future mentor that the girl I was acting as wasn't the real me. Mostly to entertain myself. I needed to have my fun in there, as much fun as I could provide myself.

I looked at the mirror in the room; it looked like I cried, but calmed down since then.

I smiled at my reflection.

"I'm going to give them a fucking great show," I murmured to myself with a smirk.

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><p><strong>Only after writing the story I realized Johanna's family died after the Games. But oh well. In this story, they died before she went to the Games. <strong>

**Have a lovely day :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

When the hour was coming to an end, I walked towards the mirror in the room and poked my fingers in my eyes again, to make them look watery and red.

A moment later, two Peacekeepers came in and indicated me to follow them. I followed them silently, sniffling hard.

There were so many cameramen and reporters out there, and it wasn't hard for me to look a bit overwhelmed; I've never seen a camera before in my life. The flashing light fascinated me, and because I was sensitive to the bright light my eyes became even more teary than before.

Frankenstein was suddenly next to me and took me by the hand. "Come on, we have a long way ahead of us," he said in his fake cheerful Capitol voice that I loathed.

He then pulled me on the train and the doors closed behind us the moment we walked in. A second later, the train began to move.

I looked around me; this little boy (Sebastian Wood?) was there, looking small and scared and stupid. Frankenstein was there too, obviously, and from up close I could see that the green color of his skin glittered.

Now that's what I call a great fashion sense.

I was never on a train before, so I didn't know if all trains looked that… homey. The walls were the color of a tree and the metal floor was painted white. There were large green couches every two meters and there was even a fluffy, light blue rug on the floor.

"I'll show you where your mentors are," Frankenstein said with a smile plastered on his face, he looked happier now that we were finally on the train, then took my hand and Wood's hand and led us to the kitchen. I fought the desire to punch him in the face when he grabbed me like that.

When we got to the kitchen we saw that our mentors, Joshua and Teresa, were indeed sitting there, drinking something brown that looked weird and waiting for us.

They both analyzed us when we sat down next to them; Joshua surveyed Wood's body with disapproval, and Teresa looked at my body with a concentrated look.

Wood looked quite uncomfortable. I wasn't though; I wasn't ashamed of my body.

I didn't look strong on the outside; I had this girl next door kind of look, with my short brown hair and big brown eyes. It didn't seem like I had muscles, even though I did have some; all those years of swinging my axe at trees really did wonders to my strength. But my muscles weren't noticeable, and right now I was grateful for that; if I wanted people to think I was just an annoying little git who didn't know a thing, then the seemingly lack of muscles actually worked to my advantage.

Joshua then shook his head with an annoyed look. "This is just not our year," he said, disappointed.

God I wanted to kick him in a very unpleasant spot.

But I didn't. I didn't even respond.

Teresa was gentler than he was. "You look kind of pretty," she informed me.

_Kind of_?

"Thank you," I said quietly, hoping she won't hear the stiff tone I tried so hard to hide.

"I think that once your stylist will put his hands on you, he could make wonders to you," she continued, surveying my face.

Maybe she thought she was nice, but she just made me want to hurt her so badly.

"Do you have any skills at all?" Joshua asked with a bored expression.

"I am pretty fast," Wood said after a few moments, "And I can identify different types of plants."

Joshua sighed heavily. "I guess that'll have to do," He said, then turned his head to look at me.

"I can… climb trees," I said pathetically.

Joshua didn't even try to hide his disapproval.

Suddenly the door opened and a few Avoxes came into the room. I heard about them; people that did something unforgivable and were punished by the Capitol. Now they were only servants. Tongueless servants.

They put plates with food on the big, white table next to me. I've never seen so much food in my life, and I wanted to just stuff my belly with goodness, but I knew that I still had to appear weak and small, so I took a small plate filled with salad and started eating it, ignoring the other, marvelous food.

"You should eat something more filling than a salad," Teresa said worryingly, looking at my plate.

I just shook my head slowly. "It's fine; I'm not that hungry," I lied quietly.

Joshua in front of me ate like some kind of a hungry beast. With his big, masculine body, his dark hair and his deadly glare, he looked like some kind of a buffalo.

Well, I guess I just found a suitable nickname for him.

When dinner was finished, Buffalo stood up and cleaned his shirt from the disgusting food leftovers that somehow managed to get there. "Come," he commended me and Wood, and we both stood up and walked after him.

He led us to a large room with two couches, huge TV screen and a small table. "Sit," he commanded again, and we obeyed.

Teresa sat down next to me and leaned forward. "We're going to look at the Reapings," she explained quietly to me. "Look at the other tributes and search for any kind of helpful information you can find."

I nodded my head slowly, only half listening. I really wanted to see my Reaping; the others' just didn't interest me enough.

First was District One; the girl was rather pretty, and the boy was a masculine one.

Careers.

District Two looked pretty intimidating, but nothing I couldn't handle; they both looked like brainless gorillas.

District Three were just plain boring; two nerdy kids, who looked like they've never seen a single ray of sunlight in their lives.

Maybe they really didn't, coming from District Three.

District Four's female tribute was forgettable. The male, however, made everyone in the crowd hold their breathes. He was extremely good looking, probably one of the best looking boys I've ever laid my eyes on. Nothing compared to Finnick Odair, who would be his mentor this games, but still hot.

Then there was District Five. I just tuned them out. They weren't worthy of my attention.

The boy from District Six looked pretty handsome too, with his blue eyes and brown hair. He was pretty masculine too, something that I didn't expect from a District Six boy.

Then it was our turn; I looked pathetic, weak and just plain stupid.

Perfect.

Wood was the twig that he was, and I saw him walking towards the stage, trembling and shaking.

Then there was District Eight, which I didn't pay attention to. District Nine's tributes were both pretty big, but still, nothing extraordinary. District Ten was boring. District Eleven and District Twelve provided the same underfed, weak, young tributes they always provided.

I just tuned them out and waited until all the Reapings were over.

Teresa looked at me with concentration. "Who looked intimidating?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh, they all looked pretty frightening to me," I mumbled nervously, staying true to my act.

I think even Teresa was too annoyed with me and my incapability of giving her answers and information that she could work with.

"Well, it was a long day," Frankenstein said while standing up and stretching his green, glittery arms. "I'll lead you two to your rooms."

Wood and I stood up and walked after him; I could swear I heard Buffalo say, "Maybe we'll have better luck next year," when we left the room. I clenched my fists tightly, trying to control my anger.

When I was outside of my room I opened the door and saw that the room was all green and brown.

The colors of trees.

Very clever Capitol. Very clever.

I locked the door behind me, just like I always did when I was in the orphanage, and walked straight to my bed. I didn't care about what was in the room; I was just tired and wanted to drop the act of me being an annoying little brat for a few hours at least.

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><p><strong>Have a lovely day :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

****DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.****

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

I woke up the next morning by the lovely shrieks of Frankenstein, who probably decided that slamming his fist repeatedly at the door is a great way to wake someone up.

I was very close to shout at him to fuck off, but then I remembered my act.

I growled loudly and got out of the bed, swearing Frankenstein in my mind. It wasn't as satisfying as swearing him to his face, but that will have to do.

I opened the door after I made sure I looked as small and scared as possible. Frankenstein looked at me with a sympathetic look that I hated. I hated when people felt sorry for me.

"You should come down and eat something," Frankenstein said, his Capitol accent annoying me. "You don't have to get organized. You're going to meet your stylist in about two hours." I nodded my head and walked beside him towards the dining room without saying a word.

"Your stylist is incredible," Frankenstein babbled as we made our way to the dining room. "He will make you look stunning."

I doubted that – District Seven's stylists were both old-fashioned, unoriginal and stupid. Most of the time they made the poor tributes dress up as trees, and I was pretty sure it'll be the same case this year.

When we got to the dining room Wood, buffalo and Teresa were already there, eating junky food and not talking to each other. I sat quietly to Wood's right and grabbed a banana. Teresa eyed my banana and shook her head disapprovingly. She didn't like to see me eat so little.

Maybe she thought that I just didn't stand a chance and that I should eat this week as much as I could, since it'll be the last week of my life. But I was smarter than her – I didn't fill my body with junk, with fatty foods like the rest of the tributes. I ate healthy, so that I won't feel sick and heavy in the arena. Also, I never ate so much in my life. I decided that it'll be smart not to get used to these large meals.

"So, the stylists," Teresa said finally while Buffalo kept eating his bacon hungrily, "Whatever they do to you, do not protest. It will only make them irritated with you. And don't cry," she added, looking straight at me.

Ah.

Well, I guess I'm going to be a fucking baby out there.

"On the chariot rides try not to look weak," Buffalo said, his mouth filled with bacon.

And I need to break down in tears on the chariot rides. Got it.

When Wood and I walked with our mentors out of the train, I felt like I was being ambushed. There were so many cameramen and reporters out there, asking me questions I couldn't hear or answer and taking my picture. Ugh. They're just insufferable. I tried to look as small as possible, and a few of the reports didn't even look at me.

We walked into a big building and Teresa led me to a white, metal door. "Your prep team is waiting for you in there," she said simply. I nodded my head and opened the door.

There were three small creatures waiting for me in there. Oh, did I say creatures? Good. I meant it. They looked absolutely hideous.

And the knowledge that they'll be the group that will fix the way I looked wasn't comforting to say the least.

They started ripping hair off my legs; at first I didn't want them to see how hurt this treatment was, as an instinct. I tried to look indifferent. But then I remembered I _needed_ to show them just how hurt this thing was.

"OW!" I screamed in pain as one of the creatures rip another piece of my leg hair.

I saw them all rolling their eyes and tried not to smirk; it was just too easy, making them hate me. I loved it. It made me feel amusement and entertainment, and god knew I needed as much entertainment as possible in here.

When they started scrubbing my body to get rid of the dirt and, apparently, skin I had on me I started crying. I didn't know if me being able to cry more naturally now, without poking my fingers to my eyes, was a good or a bad thing. I guess it was good, at least for now. I'll need to get rid of this ability as soon as I leave the games.

When they finally finished with the horrible treatment they all looked tired and annoyed.

I felt content.

They started painting my body brown. yeah, I was definitely going to be some kind of a tree.

When they finished with me they all exhaled loudly, glad that they won't have to see me until the interviews.

Morons.

My stylist came in. He looked like a panda bear, with those two huge black circles around his eyes and his pale skin.

He told me to close my eyes; I obeyed reluctantly. He then put something on my body, some kind of a dress. It felt weird against my body, rough and rugged. He started messing with my short hair, and after some time he finally exclaimed "I'm finished!" in his high Capitol voice.

I opened my eyes immediately. I was in front of a mirror, so I was able to see the horror clearly.

I was wearing some kind of a dress made of something that looked like a potato sack, which was dark brown and disgusting. There were branches and sticks stuck to the rough fabric from different places, which made me look like a huge, weird bug. There were also several leaves connected to the branches. My hair looked awful; messy, like some kind of a bird-nest. Maybe the brainless stylist did try to make it look like a bird nest.

"What do you think?" the stupid stylist asked, clearly waiting for me to flatter his great fashion sense.

I really couldn't say anything supportive about this outfit, so instead of figuring out what to say, I started to cry. The stylist didn't know what to think of that; was I crying from excitement, disgust or just because I enjoyed crying? He then shrugged his shoulders, probably thinking that I cried from excitement, and let me go to the chariots.

When I got to the room with the chariots I looked around, trying to make myself look as pathetic as possible. It wasn't that hard with the outfit I wore. Maybe I should actually thank my stylist, whose name I didn't bother learning.

I walked straight to my chariot, knowing that lingering around close to the other tributes won't be to my advantage; then they'll notice me.

Wood was already on the chariot, and was dressed as a tree as well. I had to block my laughter as I thought of how ironic it was, that his name was Wood and he was dressed up as a tree. Oh, the poor, pathetic kid.

I didn't say anything to him when I sat down to his right, and he didn't say anything to me. We just sat there in silent, trying not to look at each other.

I heard a small chuckle to my right and turned to look. The guy from District Six stood there and surveyed me and Wood with a smirk on his face.

"Can I help you?" I asked in a quiet tone that made me sick. I hated being nice to people who didn't deserve it.

"Just enjoying the view," he said, continuing to look at our costumes with amusement.

I looked at the outfits as well. "Horrible, isn't it?" I said, finally saying what I actually thought.

"It is rather insect-like," He said, nodding his head. "But your gorgeousness is still noticeable," He said and winked.

I wanted to punch that stupid bastard. We were going to fight to the death in a week, and he's standing here hitting on me?

What a moron.

What should I say, what should I say… "That's so kind of you," I said, my voice trembling a little. I wanted to kill myself as the words left my mouth. God, I hated being so nice. It was exhausting.

"Any day babe," He said in response and winked again. What a dick.

To my relief his morphling-addict mentor called him to come to his chariot. He gave me another wink and walked away. Thank god. I noticed that most of the mentors were there, but our mentors weren't.

They gave up on us. Me and Wood.

Oh well. Their loss.

When the anthem played and District One's chariot started rolling, I decided to get into the character immediately. I started shivering and shaking, and I could see that even Wood thought I was a loser.

Before District Six' chariot started rolling, the boy (whose name I still didn't know) gave me a small smirk. I tried to return him a 'good luck' smile, which made me cringe.

When our chariot finally started rolling I took a deep breath. Our chariot rolled outside of the room, and I saw a huge audience staring at us from every direction.

That was my cue.

Tears started running down my face. The audience looked disappointed, and some of them even looked at the people next to them disapprovingly.

Now, they'll all remember me as the girl who cried for no reason.

Awesome.

When the ceremony ended all of the tributes started walking to a big elevator. I never used an elevator before in my life; it was so weird. I was pressed up against one of the Careers, a guy who looked down at me (man he was tall) and sneered at me.

Fuck him.

Wood and I got to our floor and walked to the dining room immediately. No one was there, so we decided to check the living room. Yep, Buffalo and Teresa were there, sitting close and talking quietly about god-knows-what. Wood stomped on the floor loudly so they'll know we're there.

They both looked at me with angry looks. I didn't care that they were mad at me. On the contrary. It made me feel in control and strong.

Then Teresa just shook her head. "You just won't listen," She said dryly. "And I swear to you, with your incapability to listen and just do as you're told, I will not be surprised if you'll be the first to... be _eliminated_ from the games."

And I started crying again. This time for real.

The tears didn't come because I was hurt by what she said, but because I was angry, and somewhat frustrated. I wanted to show her that I was not what she thought I was, to show her that I could and will take care of myself. But I didn't. Instead, I just stormed out of the room and ran to my little bedroom.

She didn't know what she was talking about. Not only I won't be the one to die first, but I'll be the last one standing.

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><p><strong>Please review! Barely takes a minute of your time and I really appreciate it!<strong>

**Hope you all have a lovely day :)**


	4. Chapter 4

******DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.******

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

I walked around the training room without purpose, not approaching any of the stations. All of the other tributes had already gotten to a station of their choice – The Careers walked straight to the weapons' stations, trying and succeeding to intimidate the other tributes, and the smaller tributes walked right to the edible plants and survivor's stations.

I just wondered around the different stations, trying to look as scared and pathetic as I could.

I walked near to the axe throwing station and eyed the girl tribute from District One as she took a small axe and threw it at the dummy in front of her. The axe hit the dummy's shoulder.

The girl, who saw me watching her, gave me a stupid, superior look. I tried to look frightened, but all I really wanted to do was snort; the girl's grip on the axe was sloppy, she threw it without the right amount of force, and her aim wasn't good.

I could do much better than her.

I really wanted to show the brainless girl how to do it right, to make her feel embarrassed by her bad performance, but I've already told myself to stay the hell away from the axe's station; I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to my incredible abilities with an axe.

I decided to go to a station anyway; I wanted the other tributes to look at me as a useless stupid girl and a weakling.

So with that thought on my mind, I headed towards the camouflage station.

The guy who ran the station started to lecture me about the different existing colors, like I was color blind and like I've never seen the color brown or green in my life, and then he started to lecture me about different techniques to paint myself in a way that would make me blend in with my surrounding.

It was so boring, and I tuned out every stupid word that came out of his mouth; I wasn't an idiot, I knew how camouflaging worked. But the guy apparently didn't think so, so I had to suffer for half an hour without cursing or swearing or show him just how much I hated him by my deadly face expressions.

I'll probably die from all of this niceness.

The guy finally let me go, thank god, and I walked straight to the mud and leaves and branches that were on the floor next to a huge mirror.

I started painting myself with mud. I loved the sensation of it on my body. I wanted to take off all my clothes as well, but decided against it; I tried to portray myself as a weak, insecure, shy girl, and walking around naked with mud covering every inch of my body wouldn't help me accomplishing this image.

When I was done I looked at the huge mirror on the wall next to me. I did a great job, as expected. I didn't even look like a human-being anymore; I looked more like some kind of a mud monster, and I knew that if I was lying on the ground I would look just like a big dirt pile.

I actually quite liked the camouflaging station, something I didn't expect.

I decided to leave the station though; I wanted to eye my competition, to see what I would be up against.

The girl from One was now throwing some knives at a different dummy. I could see that she was way handier with a knife than with an axe, probably because holding a knife didn't involve much strength and was more about the accuracy.

The boy from One was sparring with two guys, smirking while he disarmed them both after a while. Geez, what a show-off.

The tributes from Two were lifting weights. I could take them down with only one axe motion, I thought to myself as I eyed them. They would definitely beat me if we were wrestling or something like that, but I wasn't stupid. I would never get near them in the arena. But kill then from afar… that I could do.

The tributes from Three were both at the survivor station. Not much to say about them; they would die the second the Games starts.

The male tribute from District Four threw some spears. He had a nice aim, but he didn't look that smart; he would probably have a lot of sponsors though, simply because he was hot, but I bet he won't make it that far even with the help of the sponsors.

I had to search for a while for his District partner, and I finally found her, sitting alone in the knot-tying station. At first I almost snorted out loud; was she serious? But then I surveyed the difficult knot she made. It was a trap. A deadly, dangerous trap, which I would definitely not want to walk on in the Games.

Maybe she had some brains after all. She was a Career, but she could also make some very handy knots that could kill tributes just as efficiently as those weapons that surrounded us.

The District Five tributes were in the climbing station. They both sucked terribly.

The male tribute from District Six, who talked to me before the Chariot Rides, was showing off his almost non-existing abilities with a mace. He had some muscles, and we could all see it since his stylist tear the sleeves of his shirt in an attempt to show them and make us, the tributes, fear him. But the guy just didn't use his strength well. He just didn't try hard enough.

His District Partner was in some corner, trying to start a fire. Not interesting enough for me to watch her.

Wood was in the climbing station as well as the District Five's tributes, only he actually did it right. He knew where to put his feet and when to loosen his grip. That was because he was from District Seven, and we knew how to climb up a tree. I actually felt something unfamiliar stirring in my stomach. Was it... pride?

No. No, that must be something else.

The girl tribute from District Eight was in the knot-tying station, and she was actually quite decent at it, but not as deadly as the District Four's girl, so I didn't pay her much attention. I don't think she could ever put on a trap that would make me die a slow, painful death.

Her District partner was listening to a lecture from the woman who ran the edible plants station. He had a dizzy look on his face; I bet he didn't even listen to a word she said.

The tributes from District Nine were in the knife throwing station, trying to hit a dummy five feet away from them. They almost never hit the dummy, and when they did it wasn't deep enough to cause any harm.

The tributes from District Ten were in different stations. The guy was in the mace station and the girl was in the spear station. They both actually did pretty good. District Ten was known for their meat, which meant that they were probably experienced in hunting. That would make them both a bit more dangerous than I thought, but I could still handle them.

The tributes from Eleven were both pathetic, trying to start a fire without success, and so were the tributes from Twelve, who looked at the survival instructor helplessly.

They were all so losers, more than I was.

And they didn't even try!

I decided to go to the knife throwing station; let's make the other tribute see how helpless I really was. I needed to look even worse than those twigs from Eleven and Twelve.

So I took a sharp knife and eyed it with an uncertain expression, even though I knew exactly what to do; it's a knife. You grab it, you throw it, you kill with it. Simple as that. But I tried to look like I had no idea how to throw the fucking thing.

I threw the knife pathetically. It hit the ground two feet from me, and the dummy I was 'aiming' at was five feet away from me. I saw the girl tribute from District Two snorting at me (stupid cow) from the corner of my eye and tried my best not to roll my eyes at the look of complete superiority on her face. That bitch just thought she's so great, she wouldn't know what'd hit her when I'll kill her myself in the arena.

I stretched my arm again and threw the knife. It was even worse than my first throw.

Awesome.

When I lifted my arm for the third time, I felt someone gripping my arm from behind me. I wanted to turn around and punch whoever it was, as an instinct, but a small voice in my head told me not to, so I just shifted slightly in my place, like some kind of a prisoned bird, and turned my head to the side.

It was the District Six boy.

What the fuck was he doing?

"You need to hold the knife like that," He murmured next to me, in a way that he maybe thought was seductive. I just found it extremely annoying.

"Like that?" I asked in a pathetic tone, letting him change the position of my hand.

He nodded with a smile. "And now you just need to throw it as hard as you can." And with that, he stretched both of our arms and let the knife fly.

The knife stuck in the dummy's side.

I turned to look at him with what I hoped was an admiring expression. "That was amazing!" I said, trying to look excited. I could have done so much better on my own.

He just shook his head in a dismissive kind of way, but smiled all the same. "Now try on your own, and remember the position your arm was in," He reminded me.

I nodded my head with a concentrated look and turned to look at the dummy in front of me. I took a deep breath and let the knife flew from my hand.

The knife hit the ground next to me once again.

I let out a sigh and turned to look at him. "I guess I'm just bad at it," I said with a sad expression.

"Don't worry," he said, still smiling, "I'll be here to help you until you improve."

Oh, shit.

"How nice," I said finally, not able to clear my sarcasm from my voice.

Luckily, he didn't notice it, which showed me just how dumb this guy really was.

So he stayed there with me for another hour, until he got into the conclusion that I was absolutely hopeless. But even after I went to another station, he followed me like some kind of a lost puppy. God I wanted to punch the bastard. Why did he think I liked having him around me? Oh, right. That stupid act of mine.

Why did I ever come up with such a brilliant, yet such an annoying, plan? I obviously didn't even consider how hard it will be for me before the Games actually started. I felt like loads of curses and swearing and tension were building up inside of me, and I just wanted to let them out so much. But I couldn't, which made everything even worse.

"Johanna? Are you listening?" I heard the guy from Six's voice. I turned my face to look at him.

"I'm sorry, I just… I was lost in thoughts," I said lamely and shifted a little in my place.

"Oh, don't be sorry," He said with a smile. Did he ever stop smiling? It started to creep me out.

I didn't ask him to repeat what he said while I wasn't listening, because I hoped that if I won't ask, he won't tell me.

It obviously didn't help.

"I said that these spears are really different from the ones I use at home," He said, pointing at the spears.

"You're from District Six, right?" I asked, not so sure for a moment. How come a guy from District Six practices with spears?

"Yes," He said, eyeing me for a moment with a weird look. "Do you even know my name?"

"Ahh…" I said, not able to continue. I didn't know his name. I didn't know most of the tributes names, since I didn't really care about any of them.

He just shook his head with this annoying smile again. "It's Adam," He said finally, "Adam Hale."

I nodded my head, not caring about his name one bit.

Then the bell that indicated it was time for lunch rang, and I turned on my heels and walked towards the lunch room, happy to get away from Hale.

Only he didn't get the clue, and walked after me. He kept talking and talking about god knows what, and I found it really difficult not to shout at him to get the hell away from me. But I suppressed my anger and just kept eating silently while trying to look fascinated by his never-ending chatter.

Oh please God, just kill me now.

Or better off, kill _him_ now.

* * *

><p><strong>I have a confession to all of you guys. And it's a big one.<strong>

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**I know. Mind-blowing, isn't it? But reviews are like drugs to me - I just can't get enough.**

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	5. Chapter 5

********DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.********

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

The next two days passed by like a blur; I moved from station to station, trying to learn as much as I could but not show it to anyone. I did poorly in every single station, which made the Careers laugh mockingly at me and the other tribute look at me sympathetically. It was weird, that the sympathetic looks bugged me even more than the laughes.

Another thing that annoyed me was this Hale guy, who kept stalking me. He went to every single station I went to, kept suggesting things that may help me improve and helping me out with the "difficult" stuff. His concern for me was weird; I didn't know why he cared about me. I hoped that he will stop. He was one of the things that annoyed me most in here.

All of my anger, my rage and nervousness that could screw my plan, all of these unwanted feelings built up inside of me; I was an emotional wreck, and I couldn't let off steam by punching something, from the fear that someone might see me in my worst self.

When it was time for the private sessions with the Gamemakers everyone were nervous; the weak tributes kept glaring at the other tributes with wide eyes and open mouths. They looked horrified.

It was quite entertaining, actually.

The stronger tributes hid their nervousness pretty well, but I could see they weren't as confident as they seemed. The sound of some of their breathes sounded harsher than normal and some of them couldn't help but crack their knuckles. I had a sharp eye for these kind of things.

I, on the other hand, wasn't nervous. I knew I had to be awful, so that the Gamemakers would think I didn't worth a shit. I knew it would be easy, and rather enjoyable.

When Hale's name was called he looked back at me and gave me a small smile. I wanted to give him one of my best death glares, I had a few, but instead I smiled at him a sweet smile that made me feel sick.

My name was called only ten minutes after Wood's name was called; he probably did poorly too. If he was good, then the Gamemakers would've wanted to see more from him, and his session with them would've been longer than that. But since he was there only ten minutes, it was clear that he was quite awful.

I wondered if the Gamemakers would kick me out after five minutes. If so, would it be some kind of a record?

When I got inside the big room where I had to show the Gamemakers my "abilities", I saw that the Gamemakers all sat behind a huge table.

They looked bored as hell.

Great.

"Johanna Mason, you may start," A huge man with white bushy beard said to me stiffly. I nodded my head and walked towards the knives station. I took a small knife and threw it at a dummy. It didn't even hit it.

After some more failed attempts to hit the dummy I gave the Gamemakers my most miserable, pathetic look; some tears rolled down my cheeks. They must have thought that I was a total loser, because one of them, a woman with black hair, got up and said dismissively, "You're free to go."

I went out of the room as quickly as I could, and when I was outside I didn't even try to hide my smile. It was just too easy. I was there for seven minutes. Seven _freaking_ minutes.

It had to be a record.

When I got to the seventh floor I walked straight to my room. I didn't even search for my mentor what's-her-face. I didn't need her. Maybe she thought that I needed her, but I knew I didn't. She already lost hope in me (even though I didn't judge her for that), so she probably didn't even care about my score anyway. She didn't wait for me next to the elevator with nervous look and demanded to know how well I did, now did she?

I spent the rest of the day in my room, looking out the window. It was boring, but it helped me focus on my one and only target; to be the sole survivor. To outlast the other tributes, to be the winner of the 68th Hunger Games.

Johanna Mason, A Victor. That would be my name.

Maybe after I'll win, I'll convince people to call me, "Johanna Mason, The Girl Who Killed Them All."

Nahh. Too long.

Maybe, "Johanna The Destroyer."

Hmm. That had a nice ring to it. I bet I could make people call me that in the future.

When the sky turned dark I decided it was time for me to mingle with my beloved mentor. She must've been so worried about me.

When I walked into the dining room Teresa only glanced at me with a blank expression and then turned back to her precious food.

Bitch.

She probably forgot how crappy _she_ was in her Games, because her attitude was really annoying. It bothered me that she paid so little attention to me when she was as bad as I was in her Games. But oh well. After all, her Games was a long,_ long_ time ago. Her brain was not the same as it used to be.

At least Buffalo still cared about me.

"How badly did you do?" He asked, his mouth filled with food. Really, would it kill him to eat with his mouth closed?

"I… I was…" I stammered and my eyes filled with tears once again. Buffalo and Teresa exchanged looks that clearly said they weren't pleased with me, but since I was a dead-girl-walking they didn't say anything.

"Just sit," Teresa said finally and turned to her plate once again.

We didn't talk at all during the whole dinner. I made myself look miserable and upset, which gave me a good reason to shut up. Wood looked as upset as I was, only he actually _was_ upset and didn't fake it. Buffalo and Teresa just ignored us, and the only person who actually talked was Frankenstein, who mostly talked to himself.

When this lovely dinner was over we all walked into the TV room, and again didn't talk to each other. We sat in silence, the mentors united on one sofa and Wood and I, the unwanted tributes, on the other sofa.

Oh, and Frankenstein was there, too.

We watched as the scores were announced. The Careers weren't that good; their best score was a nine.

LAME!

If I actually tried to impress the Gamemakers, I would've gotten a better score than this.

Really, a _nine_.

I saw Hale's smiling face on the screen, and then the number seven popped under his picture.

Lame.

It was my turn; I actually felt something, the slightest bit of nervousness, stirring in my stomach. When the number one popped under my picture, I exhaled loudly.

Man, I was so awesome.

Everyone in the room stared at me; I realized I didn't respond well.

And with that, I started crying my eyes out.

I felt a soothing hand on my back, and when I turned my face I saw it was Wood. He was upset too. He got only a three. But it was more than my one, and he actually tried to look collected and calm to make me feel better.

Now I felt something warm spreading in my body; he didn't have to be nice to me, but he was. It was more than I could say about my so-called mentor, who just watched the screen with an annoyed expression.

What a bitch.

I stormed out of the room; I didn't even see the other scores, but I didn't care. I knew they weren't worth knowing.

I got to sleep early that night, by the lack of anything better to do. I wasn't mad; I was actually quite pleased with my one. But I was edgy. Being so nice all the time really messed up with my head. It took all of my will-power not to scream at my stupid mentor for being a bitch, not to scream at this stupid District Six boy for being a stalker, not to scream at Frankenstein for being himself.

But I had to do it, and I knew I didn't have a choice.

The next morning Frankenstein woke me up early. He came and knocked on my door with all his might; he knew how hard it was for me to wake up.

I opened the door several minutes later and gave him a small, fake smile. "Good morning," I said as sweetly as I could.

"Good morning to you too," Frankenstein said, actually looking quite excited. Yuck. "I'm sorry for wakening you up so early, but you have a big day ahead of you! It's interviews day, after all."

Interviews day. Excellent.

"I thought the interviews are supposed to be later today," I said, confused.

"Oh, but you have to prepare for it! And it would take time, believe me," He said with the tone of an expert. I decided to take his word for it and expect a long, hard day.

And it really was a long, hard day. First Teresa started talking to me about some possible angles for me to use in the interview. She decided I should be sweet and likable. I was actually quite amused hearing that, since in reality I was the complete opposite.

Then she gave me high-heeled shoes. I never walked in high-heels before, and after several hours of practicing on my walk alone I had only one thing on my mind; why would anyone wear high-heels by choice? It was torture. A torture that made my back and my feet hurt like hell.

And after all this Teresa left me with my stylist and prep team; they ravished my body as usual, and I cried as usual, they gave me angry glares as usual and I cried even more because of it as usual.

To sum it up, I had a pretty good time.

Then my stylist put me in a long dress that showed some curves I didn't even know I had. He probably hoped that since_ I_ couldn't sell myself to the Capitol then my body would.

I looked quite nice, I must say. I didn't wear a ridiculous costume this time, which was definitely a plus. I wore a nice, long, sparkling green dress with low neckline. My stylist then added some gold strings to my hair, which made me look special.

Too bad I was going to ruin his hard work with my horrible personality. To be honest, I didn't even feel bad about it.

When the interviews were about to begin, I walked next to Wood silently; even though he was a pathetic twig, I liked him. He was the only person I liked here.

All of the tributes walked on stage in line, and were greeted by the loud applauses that came from the crowd. They screamed with joy, jumped in their places and clapped their hands enthusiastically.

They were just so stupid.

And then our savior Caesar came and started talking to the crowd. He did his job well, but I still didn't like him; probably because he was a Capitol person. Either that or the fact that his yellow skin was shining so brightly I couldn't look directly at it.

Caesar started calling for tributes by the order of the districts. I didn't listen to any of the interviews. I was too stressed out about my interview. I knew I had to cry at some point, and I knew I had to look weak and gloomy and scared. The opposite of what Teresa told me to do. She would probably be mad at me for not listening to her instructions, but I seriously didn't give a damn about whether she was pleased with me or wasn't.

My turn came far too soon for my liking. I rose from my seat and walked shakily towards Caesar, who gave me a wide smile. The crowd only clapped their hands several times; they didn't like me very much.

I took my seat next to Caesar and gave him a shaky, fake smile.

"Johanna Mason, may I tell you how lovely you look this evening?" Caesar said with his friendly, annoying smile.

I gave him a small smile. "Do you really think that I look lovely?"

"Of course!" He exclaimed. "Don't you guys think so too?" He said it to the crowd. All the men in the crowd shouted "YES!"

Those sick bastards.

"So, Johanna, let's talk about your training score," Caesar said with soft eyes. "A one. How did that happen?"

I shook my head with a sad expression. "I… I just…" I stammered, and my eyes began to fill with tears. "I tried my best, but I… I guess it just… wasn't enough."

"But it can't be your best! I'm sure a lovely girl like you could have gotten better than a one."

I didn't know how to answer this question, so I just started crying even harder. Every time Caesar tried to say something, I let out a loud sob. At the end he just gave up, and my interview was over before my three minutes passed.

I was quite pleased with my interview. I definitely looked pathetic, and no one in their right mind would even consider me as a threat. And the best part was that tomorrow the Games will start. I won't have to pretend for much longer.

I didn't even listen to Teresa when she yelled at me about my performance in the interview; I was too focused on the fact that the Games were about to start.

Tomorrow.

Oh, thank God.

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><p><strong>Thank God indeed! The Games starts next chapter, which means the fun will start as well :)<strong>

**Hope you all have a lovely day, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**********DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**********

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

I barely slept that night before the Games. There were just too many emotions inside of me; stress, excitement, eagerness, wonder, even fear. I lay on the comforting bed for a while longer, just staring at the ceiling and breathing deeply.

When it was too much for me I walked towards the dining room.

Wood was already there; he sat next to the table and drank something that was called hot chocolate. I never liked it; it was too sweet for my taste. I preferred coffee.

When he saw me walking in he gave me a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was nervous.

"Good morning," He greeted me.

"Good morning," I replied stiffly and sat down next to him. He had dark circles under his eyes and he blinked rapidly.

"Did you sleep at all?" I asked him, feeling worried even though I didn't want to.

"Couldn't," He replied with a sad smile. "I would probably die the moment the Games starts."

"You don't know it," I said simply, even though I knew he was right. Not only he was small and helpless, he was also tired and exhausted. The kid didn't stand a chance.

"I'm positively sure it would happen though," He replied but didn't look miserable. He looked calm, like he accepted his fate. For some reason I hated it, but I didn't tell him that. Instead I just poured some coffee into an empty cup and drank the bitter liquid. I felt a rush of adrenaline washing my body, thanks to the hot coffee.

We didn't talk much; neither of us knew what to say to the other. I was actually quite relieved when Frankenstein walked in.

He gave me a warm smile. "Did I turn you into an early-riser too?"

Instead of growling at him I gave him a sweet smile. He returned the smile and sat to my left.

Buffalo and Teresa showed up half an hour later. They didn't talk to us. They didn't try talking strategy with us. They gave up on us.

So when breakfast was over, they only gave us stiff, identical nods and walked away. They didn't even say goodbye.

I would show them. I would show them both.

My next stop was at my stylist's room. He dressed me up in a simple, black tight shirt and long grey tights. He also put me in a sweater and water-proof boots.

He explained that since the boots were water-proof that meant there will be some shallow pounds in the arena, and since the clothes were short then it must be hot in the arena. The sweater would be necessary for the cold nights.

He then led me towards a big hovercraft. He didn't get inside it with me, he just stayed behind and gave me a small, stiff wave. He didn't like me. I knew he didn't. He thought I was a complete wimp.

Someone injected something right into my arm. It was painful, but I didn't show anything by instinct. Of course, only after I realized it would have been better if I showed then how painful it was, but too late for that.

The ride in the hovercraft was short and stressful; would the Careers leave me alone in the arena since they thought I was a loser, or would they go after me because they thought I was an easy target?

I hoped the former.

When the ride was over I had to walk blindfolded; maybe I walked right next to the arena and they didn't want me to see anything. I didn't protest; I hated being led by someone, but I didn't have a choice.

When I could see again I saw I was in a small room. There was only one thing inside the room; a metal circle on the floor. I stepped on the metal plate and waited. I didn't know what I was waiting for exactly, but I knew that stepping on the plate was the right thing to do.

And then something finally happened. A glass cylinder tube appeared from my sides; the metal plate started to go up through the tube, and before I knew it I was blinded by the bright light of the arena.

_"Ladies and gentlemen, let the sixty eighth Hunger Games begin!"_

I surveyed my surroundings quickly. There was a forest right in front of me, which made me feel some sort of weird comfort; it was familiar, and it reminded me of home.

I looked at the other tributes; I was surrounded by Careers. Now that was just wonderful. I really hoped they wouldn't pay any attention to me once the Games start.

And then I surveyed the items in the Cornucopia. I saw some knives close to me, but the Careers would get to them first. I also saw some spears, a bow and some arrows, a trident…

And there was my axe!

I looked at the axe with hungry eyes; I couldn't hide my desire. I just had to have it. It was necessary for my survival. But I knew I couldn't just run and grab it; someone would get to me before I could actually get my hands on the precious axe.

So when the sixty econds ended and the BOOM sounded, I ran straight to the forest. I felt disappointed, but I knew that I would manage without the axe for the first couple of days. I also knew that I would do anything in my power to get my hands on the axe.

I didn't see who died and who ran away; I was only aware of my feet and the steady rhythm of my breathings. I knew I would have to run for a long time before I could feel safe.

After a couple of hours I allowed myself to stop. My lungs felt like they were on fire. I never ran for such a long time, and I felt exhausted and tired. I knew I still had a long way to go before I could actually stop and camp for the night, but I also knew I needed the break.

But something stopped me when I was about to run again. The sound of BOOMS that indicated the number of deaths. I counted them in my head.

There were six.

Only six dead tributes.

That wasn't much to say the least, and I felt disappointed. More deaths would mean less competition, and since there were still seventeen tributes near me I couldn't just drop my act. I had to keep my appearance as a pathetic girl.

I ran for a while longer before I fell to the ground; it was hard for me to move. I was tired, hungry and, above all, thirsty. I felt dizzy, and the heat from the sun made me sweat so badly, I felt as stinky as a skunk. Well, I probably wasn't as stinky as a skunk, but close to it.

I felt like crap, but I still couldn't stop. I had to keep moving.

So I kept moving, and to my delight I saw a small pond before nightfall. I drank right from the pond, not caring that it might be poisoned. My mind just wasn't clear enough for me to think about complex things like this. But luckily for me, the water were fine, and when the sky turned black I actually felt content. I was hungry, but I knew I could live without food for a while.

With seventeen other tributes out there I didn't feel safe, so I climbed up a tree and found a nice, solid branch. I tried to get comfortable on it without success, but now wasn't the time to be picky.

I suddenly heard a loud sound, and realized it was the anthem.

Time to see who died.

The first face that appeared in the sky was the boy from Three's, followed closely by the girl from Three's. Then I saw Wood's face, and I felt something twisting painfully in my stomach. The only person I actually liked in here died. But I wasn't surprised; I knew he would die sooner or later, and I guess sooner was better than later.

Then the face of the boy from District Ten appeared and then both tributes from Twelve. Then the anthem played again, and then everything was silent.

I started wondering in my head when I should drop my act; not right now, but maybe later, when there'll be only a handful of tributes left.

Then I can be me again.

It was hard for me to sleep; I kept shifting in my place. The branch wasn't comfortable and my back hurt me. I slept on and off for several hours, and I actually felt relief when the morning came. There were another two booms during the night, so right now the competition got down to fifteen. Still far too many, but manageable nonetheless.

I was hungry; I was so hungry I could actually eat a person, like this guy Titus who turned all crazy and cannibal in his Games. Of course, this choice won't be… _appropriate_, but if it turned down to it…

I walked towards the small pond I found yesterday and started drinking the clear water. It was incredible.

I saw something swimming in the water and realized it was a fish.

A fish!

That's edible after all. I didn't have any weapon with me, and even if I had, how could I catch a fish and still appear weak and stupid?

And just as I was debating in my head whether I should just attack the fish or let it be so that my act would stay intact, I heard a loud _snap!_ behind me.

I turned instantly and saw the person who walked behind me was Hale, the boy from Six, who gave me a weird smile that made my stomach clench.

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><p><strong>Hope you all have a lovely day, and please REVIEW! :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

I stared at Hale. I didn't know for how long; it seemed like for hours.

I didn't know what to do, how to handle this situation. It still wasn't my time to drop my act. There were still too many tributes alive that wanted to hunt other tributes.

And also, I worked really, _really_ hard on that act, and it would be a shame to end it this early on.

But I couldn't let him kill me.

So I just waited; I waited for him to do the first step.

His smile was still on his face. It was a weird smile. I couldn't put a finger on the thing that bothered me with his smile, so I decided not to think about it at all. To be honest, I didn't really give a damn about the way the brainless git smiled.

He then walked towards me slowly. Since I didn't have any weapon on me I didn't have much to do. I could run, but I wasn't that fast, and as much as I hated to admit it to myself, he was faster than me and he could catch me and kill me in only a matter of seconds.

When he got really close I took a deep, calming breath. I was_ not_ going to die; I'll kill him with my bare hands if it came down to it.

He now stood right in front of me. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket…

And offered it for me to shake.

I gave him a stunned look. What was the fuckwit doing?

"Want to form an alliance?" He asked me, still smiling.

Was he a complete idiot?

Okay, that was a stupid question. Of course he was.

I opened my mouth, absolutely shocked. "I…" I stammered, not knowing how to continue. Had he totally lost it? Why would he want to form an alliance with a helpless girl like the one I pretended to be?

"Why?" I finally asked the question I wanted to ask most.

"Why what?" Hale asked pleasantly.

"Why would you want an alliance with me?" I asked.

"I like you." He shrugged his shoulders. "You're alright, and I think it would be good for the both of us to be in an alliance."

Be good for the both of us? I could see why he thought it would be good for me, a pathetic, stupid girl, to be in an alliance with a somewhat strong boy like him. But what good would it be for him?

The sound of his pleasant voice ruined my train of thought. "So what do you say? Do you want to?"

_Did_ I want to? The answer to this question was a big fat no. After all, he could ruin everything I've worked for with my act.

_Or could he?_

If he and I would form an alliance, then I won't have to worry about being attacked weaponless.

Maybe he was right; maybe we should be allies.

I didn't even have to think of what I would do if there'll be only a handful of tributes left and we'll both be still alive and allies. I knew I could kill him in a heartbeat. I could kill him without even blink. Maybe I had no conscience, and maybe I was a heartless bitch, but in these Games these faults are considered as benefits.

So I gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, I'd love to be allies with you."

He smiled a wide smile that showed his white, straight teeth and we shook on it.

He then sat on the ground and gestured for me to do the same. I sat down next to him reluctantly. I hated taking orders from other people, especially stupid ones like him.

It was only then when I realized he had something with him; a black backpack. That meant he either ran to the Cornucopia and took it or had a fight with a tribute that ran to the Cornucopia and took it. Either way, he had a backpack, which was more than I had.

He put the black backpack between his legs and opened it. "Are you hungry?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer handed me some dry jerky.

I took the dry jerky quickly, man I was so hungry, then remembered I should have some manners. "Thank you," I muttered to him quietly and started eating the dry jerky as slowly as I could in my state of hunger. Fortunately, chewing the jerky was proven to be quite difficult, so I couldn't really eat it fast.

"No problem, ally," Hale said with his unusual wide grin. I flinched when I heard him say the word ally; I hated it when people didn't call me by my name. Nicknames like this were things I named others; nicknames, to me, were insults, and I would not let him call me ally, like it was some kind of a nickname. Maybe he didn't mean it to be, but by the way he said it, it sounded like a nickname.

He then pulled out of the backpack a brown, rough, folded fabric, and started unfolding it. When he unfolded it I saw that the things that were in there were knives. Short knives, long knives, knives with sharp blade and knives with curvy blade. He grabbed a pretty sharp, though not too much, knife, then handed it to me carefully.

I stared at him. "You're giving me a knife?" I asked slowly. Handing another tribute a knife, a tribute that is standing between your way to victory, was a stupid idea. The boy surprised me every time with how fast he was sinking to new levels of stupidity.

"To defend yourself if it's needed," He said without elaborating. I could see he wasn't really worried about me with a knife, though he should've been. I was very glad I decided to act like a weak tribute; it showed its benefits.

I nodded and took the knife from his hand, then tuck it in my belt. If I ever need it, and I was sure I'll need it sooner or later, then I wanted it to be easy to reach.

"Think you can handle it?" He asked, looking a bit worried. Of course, he saw how I handled with a knife in training; my guess was that he wasn't that impressed with my "abilities".

"I'll try my best," I said in a fake shaky voice. "But I guess you should be close to me, so that if someone would come…" I didn't really want him to walk next to me every day for the next week or so, but it would be helpful if a tribute suddenly came. If someone came, then he'll see me but attack Hale instead; Hale was heavier and less pathetic than I was. No one would even look at me, and I was sure of that.

"Don't worry," He said with this smile of his. "I'm not going to take my eyes off you, nor do I want to." He then winked at me. What a moron. I really didn't like him. On the contrary; I started hating him more and more every second I spent with him.

"How nice," I said with a smile that sickened me just as much as his reply earlier sickened me. I hated flirting, and I hated being forced to play nice.

He looked at me with this weird look again, then got to his feet. "Want to go hunting?" He asked, though he looked a bit stiff, like he knew I wouldn't want to.

I wanted to. I really had to stick my new knife into something. An animal, a tribute, it didn't matter as long as I let off some steam. But I couldn't; it wasn't what was expected of me as a weak tribute, and I decided that I could always let off some steam later on.

So I shook my head. "No, I think I'll just stay here and… build a fire."

It wasn't as easy as it seemed though; I didn't know how to build a fire. I tried my best, but there weren't any matches in the black backpack, so I tried to use sticks and rocks and what not. After a while it started to get really boring, so I just dropped the stupid rocks on the ground and rested until Hale came.

He didn't look that surprised to see that I wasn't successful at building a fire.

"Let me try," He said, then put on a big rock the little bunny he caught. It wasn't much; he just wasn't that good at hunting. But he did catch something, so I didn't complain.

He tried to make a fire too, but couldn't, so at the end we just ate the bunny raw. I knew it could make us both sick, but frankly, I didn't give a damn. I was too hungry that nothing else seemed important.

But of course, I had to appear annoying and useless. "Yuck!" I said and wrinkled my face in disgust when I took my first bite at the bunny. "It's gross!"

I could see Hale rolling his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

"How could you kill this bunny?" I said, finally enjoying my act. I could see how much I annoyed him, which made me feel better. "It's so defenseless and cute! Don't you think that killing bunnies should be forbidden?"

"I agree that bunnies are defenseless and cute," Hale said slowly, careful with every word that came out of his mouth. "But it's necessary for us. If it wasn't for this bunny right here, we would've starve to death."

"It's still awful," I complained, enjoying myself.

"I know," He said, though I knew he said it just to calm me down and to make me stop with my complaining.

So I decided to shut up; he had more weapons on him than I had on me after all, and I didn't want to fight to the death with him just yet.

After we finished eating the raw bunny (which wasn't all that bad actually), we sat down next to a big tree that shielded us from the sun.

A cannon boomed, and after it another one.

"You think those deaths were by the hands of the Careers?" Hale asked me and looked at me.

"Likely," I replied. I wasn't scared; I knew the Careers won't stand a chance against me. Though Hale didn't know it, and I definitely didn't want to let him know about me. I would rather him learning about who I really am when I stab him in the back; give the Capitol some sort of a show.

Not that I cared about their entertainment.

"How many tributes are left?" Hale asked me.

I knew exactly how many. I had to remember; I needed to know when I could drop my act. "Fourteen," I said simply.

Hale nodded; I could see it was important to him too, to know how many tributes were still alive.

"Who do you think they were?" I asked, not really caring.

"Maybe District Nine's tributes," Hale said and shrugged. "I guess we'll see tonight."

When the anthem played several hours later we both watched the sky intensely. There were four people who died in the last day; two died during the night, and two died during the day.

First, there was the boy from Four. Hale gave a low whistle when he saw his face. "A Career," Was all he said.

Then, there was the boy from Five. Then the girl from Nine, and then the girl from Ten. The anthem played again, concluding the deaths that happened today.

"Who do you think killed the boy from Four?" I asked him, actually interested. The guy was a Career, after all, and was probably with all the other Careers when he died.

"Probably one of the dead tributes," Hale said thoughtfully. "If someone killed him, then he probably got killed by the other Careers. It was probably the boy from Five."

The boy from Five never struck me as the fighting type, but it was the most reasonable explanation to the death of a Career. "Or maybe the other Careers decided to kill him now instead of later," I said thoughtfully.

"See, that's the disadvantage of participating in this Games," Hale said with a smile. "You never actually know what happens to all of the other tributes."

"Is this the only disadvantage you could find about being here?" I asked him.

"No, it pretty sucks knowing that you could die any second," Hale said and gave me his seductive smile. "But there are some advantages. For example, I'm now sitting here with a beautiful girl by my side, who is also my ally."

What a douchebag. "You really think I'm beautiful?" I asked, trying to look stupid and touched by his annoying flirting.

"Of course," He said and gave me another small smile, that still bothered me somehow.

If I could only just kill him now… But I was stuck with him for at least a couple of days. It still wasn't my time to shine.

Dammit.

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	8. Chapter 8

**************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

When I woke up the next morning I felt hands wrapped around me in a possessive kind of way. I knew exactly who it was that decided that wrapping his arms around me was a good idea, and to my own surprise I didn't draw away.

Maybe it was because of the comfort I found in it, maybe it was because it kept me warm, I didn't exactly know. What I did know was that I didn't want it to be over just yet.

It wasn't about anything romantic though; I still thought Hale was a brainless moron. But I guess it was more about feeling so lonely out here that every human contact was more meaningful than it was outside of the Games.

When I started feeling Hale stirring next to me, I opened my eyes and changed my position, so he'll think I just woke up, like him.

He got on his feet and offered me his hand, which I took after a quick debate in my head. He then gave me his wide smile. "Now, what a great way to wake up," He said.

I mentally puked. "It was rather nice."

Well, that was only half a lie. I think we're getting progress here.

His smile widened and then he reached and grabbed some leaves that were stuck in my hair. "We should do it again sometime," Was all he said before turning and walking toward his backpack.

I gritted my teeth but didn't say anything. Instead of yelling at him, I walked and joined him next to his backpack.

"So we don't have much," He informed me importantly. "I think I'll go hunting again."

Do as you want, I don't care, I thought to myself. Of course I didn't say that out loud. Instead, I said, "Are you going to bring another bunny? 'Cause the last one was disgusting. I would much rather some chicken."

I almost laughed at the obviously fake smile that was plastered on his face. I could see he was annoyed with my requests when I didn't do anything myself, but he didn't want to tell me that. "I'll try my best, though don't raise your hopes," Was all he said before leaving with his knives.

So I stayed in my place, without much to do. I really wanted to kill something, anything. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't. Not yet anyway.

This tension building up inside of me was too much to handle.

I was surprised I controlled myself so well this last week.

I had to wait for a pretty long while until Hale finally showed up, holding another bunny in his hands. I debated if I should sigh an exaggerating sigh or just shut up, then decided to do the latter. I didn't want to push it.

We ate the bunny in silence. I didn't really like the taste; the bunny was too thin and didn't have a lot of meat on it, and it might have been sick too. Give it to Hale to hunt the most pathetic bunny out there, the brainless git.

Hale actually looked quite pleased with his catch though, which showed just how stupid he really was.

Something interrupted our lovely dinner; a loud _BOOM_ that sounded not too far away from our current place.

Hale got to his feet instantly. "It was close to where we are," The git informed me, like I didn't know it.

Though I still had an act to keep. "What does it mean?" I asked, trying to sound confused and frightened.

"It means," Hale said, looking everywhere, "That whoever, or whatever, killed that tribute, is close to us."

And that was when I heard footsteps. Lots of footsteps.

Hale heard them too. He took his backpack and whispered to me, "Run. Run as fast as you can, and don't let it catch you."

I didn't have to be told twice. I took off, Hale right next to me and we ran from whatever it was that was chasing us.

But the creature was too fast. I ran like a blind person, trying to get away from it. Hale ran faster than me, so I was the one who was in danger.

And just when I knew I couldn't keep up with Hale, just when I knew the creature following me would catch me, I saw it. The creature.

The scream that left my mouth was a real one.

See, spiders freaked me out. And here in front of me was an enormous spider, and not just a regular huge spider, but a special huge spider. It had horse's legs. Eight of them.

Yuck.

It was horrible.

Its head turned to look at me, all of its eyes staring at me. I didn't know if the evil glint I saw in its eyes was real or not. Maybe I just imagined it, though I wasn't sure about it.

I was scared. I really was. I turned around and tried to keep running, but the spider was faster than me. How could it not be, with its eight long horse legs?

It caught me; I tried to fight it, but I was too weak, too small. My knife was out of reach, the spider took care of that. I was absolutely helpless against it.

So I screamed the only thing I could think of. "Hale!"

I couldn't see him; the spider blocked my view on him. When it turned around, I could see its nasty, huge eyes staring at me, all six of them. I was horrified.

I didn't actually see my life passing before my eyes, like I heard some people in District Seven say. I didn't have much of a life to begin with. What I did see though was a flash of silver. A flash of silver that later I identified as a knife.

The knife hit the spider. It shrieked a loud, horrifying shriek, which made me shiver and want to close my eyes and shut my ears. It let go of me, and I fell on the ground, my whole body hurting from the strong grip of the nasty not-small-at-all-and-more-than-a-little-ugly creature.

And there was Hale, next to me. His face expression was... weird. He looked like he was horrified, nervous and excited all in the same time. Though I didn't have much time to think about it, 'cause he just lifted me off the ground and started running with me, his hand holding mine so that I'll keep up with his speed.

The spider was left behind; Hale's shot really slowed it down. The knife went inside one of its front legs, which meant it was limping terribly. We soon lost any sight of it, which made me breathe in relief once again. I never felt so weak in my life. I hated it. I hated depending on someone, most of all Hale. But he did save me just now, so I couldn't really complain about him.

We didn't talk at all while we ran; we just wanted to leave the ugly spider-horse thing behind. We didn't even look back to see if it was following us, though we knew it wasn't. We would have heard it if it was.

We stopped only two hours later, both of us panting for breath. When I filled my lungs with some extremely-needed oxygen, I turned to look at Hale.

"Thank you," I said, actually meaning it.

He smiled, though he was still breathing deeply. "Don't need to thank me."

"Of course I do," I insisted. I knew that if it wasn't for him, I would be dead by now.

"Well, then the pleasure was all mine," He replied, the smile still on his face. It was a weird smile indeed. It was like he actually felt quite… proud, by what he did.

Though why would he feel so happy about risking his life like that?

He then like remembered something, and turned to look at his backpack with a sad expression. "We ran for so long… I only wish we had some water and food to help us regain our strength."

A moment later, like as a respond to what he said, a parachute flew toward us. Attached to the parachute was a box filled with several chicken legs and two big water bottles.

Hale looked satisfied by what was inside the box. "Seems like we have some sponsors after all," He said happily.

I didn't bother telling him that it seemed like _he_ had some sponsors after all. No need to remind him how useless I was.

I took a chicken leg and ate it slowly, looking at Hale the entire time. I thought it was really damn stupid what he did back there. He could have just let me die. That what I would have done if it was the other way around.

I really was a bitch.

I knew I should be grateful that I had him, but I still didn't like him. The whole saving-my-life thingy didn't change that fact.

He noticed me looking at him and smiled his wide smile. "Like what you see?"

I had to smile, though it was mostly because he had some chicken leftovers between his teeth. "It's quite a view," I replied.

There was another_ BOOM_ right there, and we both turned to look. The boom from before practically traumatized us.

"It's not close to us," Hale said, puffing out his chest importantly, like he was my defender or something.

"Think it was the spider?" I asked him.

"Don't know, though whatever it was, we don't need to worry about it," Was his respond.

I took a big gulp from one of the water bottles and felt instantly better. It was awful, running for such a long time.

"You seem like you're about to pass out," Hale commented, looking at me.

"I'm not the runner type," I said truthfully.

"Yeah, well doesn't matter. I like you just the way you are."

I gave him a weird look. "You could've died saving me," I said.

He just smiled in respond. "I always had a weakness for a damsel in distress."

What a stupid freak.

"Well, it was really heroic. You were so tough out there. And brave." I tried to make myself sound like I was in awe, though I still thought what he did back there was incredibly stupid, no matter what the outcome was.

He looked quite pleased with my words. "Well, thank you for your kind words."

I nodded and shifted in my place. The night started to fall, and another _BOOM_ sounded. Those booms were coming way more frequently now. This meant it won't be long 'till I could drop my act.

And I didn't care if Hale just saved me. The moment we'll get to at least the last six tributes will be my moment to kill him. Or if he'll run away, he'd probably get caught by the Careers and one of them would kill him. Either way, he's doomed.

The anthem played. First we saw the girl from Eight's face. Then we saw the boy from Nine, then the boy from Eleven. I saw Hale, counting his fingers with a concentrated look

"We're eleven now," He said finally after he was done with the math.

"I can't believe we made it this far," I said, trying to look beamed and excited. He smiled a small smile that made me think he didn't believe it either, the moron.

"I think we should go to sleep," He then said. He had a glint in his eyes that told me he really wanted us to cuddle again.

Maybe I'll even let him. Again, nothing romantic, just pure desire for some body heat.

"Don't you think one of us should stay awake and watch?" I asked, actually worried. I won't be able to fight someone who just attack me in my sleep. It's just too much, even for me.

And I still didn't have my axe.

He looked disappointed, though he nodded. "You're probably right," He sighed. "So… G'night," He said and lay on the ground.

"Wait, what?" I asked, surprised. "You want _me_ to be the one to stay on watch?"

"Well, you were the one suggesting it," He reminded me with a smirk. "And also, I just saved your life. The least you can do is to let me get my beauty sleep. Not all of us are as naturally beautiful as you are."

Of course, he was right. About me owing him at least that, I mean. He did just save my life, the dickhead.

So I let out a small sigh and sat on a rock, the knife safe in my belt. I would probably have to run to Hale if I saw someone or something coming, because I wasn't ready yet to fight things on my own.

I really didn't like taking orders from people, and so the anger was the only thing letting me stay awake for at least half the night until I woke Hale up so we can switch places.

I almost smiled in triumph at his sad face when I woke him. Now he was stuck with the duty of staying awake for hours, while I was the one who got to sleep.

Ha.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked that chapter, and please review! :)<strong>

**And have a lovely day :)**


	9. Chapter 9

****************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.****************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

I woke up the next day, feeling slightly disoriented. I didn't sleep for a very long time, and since I was most definitely not a morning person I felt really short-tempered.

And since I still couldn't show it to the crowd, I had to suck it up.

I hated it.

Hale, on the other hand, looked quite peaceful. He just sat there, on a big rock, and sharpened his knife with a small rock, humming absentmindedly.

I walked behind him. How easy would it be, to just kill him now. He wouldn't even be able to scream.

It was actually quite tempting, since I had the power here. He didn't seem to notice me, and I had a knife in my belt.

But I decided not to; not only would it be wrong after he saved me yesterday, but also I got quite used to his presence, and for the long run I think it was a good thing for us to be allies.

So I made some noise, so he'll know that I woke up. His head turned quickly at the noise I made, but when he saw it was only me and not a tribute or a mutt, he relaxed.

"What are you doing?" I asked, sitting down next to him. Since he sat on a rock and I had to sit on the ground, he looked bigger, and I knew I probably looked smaller. But it was a benefit, after all, so I didn't mind.

"Sharpening my knives," He said simply and kept sharpening them.

I nodded my head and looked at the ground. There was a silence for several moments, which both unnerved me and bothered me, though I didn't know why.

"Did anyone die last night while I was asleep?" I asked finally, wanting to end the uncomfortable silence.

Hale nodded absentmindedly. "One," He said simply.

I nodded my head. "So we're now…?"

"Ten tributes," He answered immediately, like he already thought about it before.

I nodded again, though didn't know what to say.

We were both silent.

"I can't believe we're so close to the end," Hale muttered suddenly.

I looked at him with a weird expression. "Yeah, well, we're still far from it though."

"But not as much as before," He said. "I mean, soon we'll be only eight tributes, and then five, and then two… I just hope I'll manage to get there."

I really didn't know what to say about it, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I bet my sisters are watching it," Hale continued. "They told me they'll be rooting for me, that they know I'll get back to them. Though I don't think they actually meant it. I want to show them that when I said I'll be back, I didn't lie to them, and that I actually meant it."

I now regretted that I wanted the silence to end. I wished to get back to the uncomfortable silence. It was at least better than hearing about Hale's sisters, who wished he'd come back to them.

I didn't want to hear any personal stuff about his life. It would be so much easier without knowing anything about each other.

"My family… well, we aren't really well-off. We manage to live with what we've got, but… I do wish I'll be able to bring them money and fame."

And the dickhead just kept on sharing.

I wanted to kick him.

"But what about you Johanna?" He then asked, turning to look at me. He looked sad, remembering his family.

I didn't want to share. I didn't want people to know who I really was, because, after all, if I told him about my family, then the whole panem would know as well.

So I decided to do what I did best.

Lie.

"My family aren't that poor," I said slowly. "We have a pretty big house in the better side of my district. My dad works as a lumberjack, and since he's pretty strong and good at his job, most of the time he's the one being called when there's a really serious, thick tree that needs to be cut off."

It wasn't exactly a lie; at least not the last part. My dad really was a lumberjack back then, and he really was pretty strong. And we were pretty rich back then too.

But after my father died by a peacekeeper because he insisted on staying in the woods even when he wasn't allowed to, my mother got into depression. She didn't see what the point in life was, and so, a year later, she killed herself. Took a rope and hung herself by the neck.

I still remembered it. I got home from school and opened the door to my house. There was something strange; I didn't hear my mom cries. It made me feel cold inside.

So I started searching for her around the house, and when I finally found her in the kitchen… well, what I saw wasn't really nice.

I was only nine.

It apparently, as the psychiatrist I got from the orphanage told me, scarred me for life.

Which really showed he didn't know a thing. I was perfectly fine. Awesome, even.

Though I most definitely didn't want to tell him about that, nor did I want the rest of Panem to know.

"My mother doesn't work, so she just stays at home and makes food. She quite likes it that way though; she loves living the simple, peaceful life."

Hale smiled and nodded his head. I tried to make myself look sad that I wasn't with my family right now, and maybe it worked, but it took so much emotional strength out of me that I knew I had to stop talking about it.

Luckily for me, a boom sounded, ending the emotional heart-to-heart talk.

"Nine tributes left," Hale said quietly, more to himself than to me.

I smiled. "Only one more tribute before the final eight."

He shot me a weird look. "Yeah…" He said, looking distracted.

We didn't talk about our families after that, something I was quite thankful for. I mostly felt exposed when I talked about them, and even though I lied right now it was hard. I now started thinking about them, something I didn't really do before.

Most of the time I tried to avoid thinking about them. If you can't fix something, just don't think about it. Forget it, that what I kept saying to myself.

Only I couldn't, because no matter how much I wanted to forget, I couldn't. It wasn't like I thought about them on a daily basis or anything, but every once in a while I remembered them, every once in a while I thought about what it would've been like if they were both still here.

I thought about each of them differently. I remembered my father as a strong, cheerful man, who loved everyone and whom everyone loved. Every time I thought about him, my stomach filled with sadness, with longing for him to be here with me again.

But when I thought about my mom, my stomach filled with hatred, with anger and frustration. She practically ruined me by what she did to herself. She only thought about her misery and never stopped to think about mine, never thought about what it would do to me to see her hanging by a rope, her cold, glassy, dead eyes staring at me.

I was often hunted by her empty eyes.

I turned to look at Hale when I saw him move in the corner of my eye; he grabbed two sharp, long knives, and started walking to the forest.

"Where are you going?" I called after him.

"Hunt some bunnies!" He called back, and then he was gone.

I didn't have much to do all by myself. I didn't try to build a fire, nor did I try to sharpen some knives or go filling our water bottles in the pond near us. I just lay on the ground and looked at the sky.

I remembered people saying how nice it is to look at the sky and try to see something in the clouds up above. I never really understood those people; why would they care if one cloud had the shape of a heart? What did it matter?

But somehow, looking at those clouds up above made me feel calmer. It was like the sky in District Seven, only brighter.

I never thought I'll miss home that much, 'cause really, I never actually thought of District Seven as my home. But it was; I grew up there, I had memories from there, good and bad. It was my home, the place I belonged to.

Though I'll never say that to anyone. Don't want to appear all mushy and stupid.

I was quite relieved when I heard Hale's footsteps. It was hard to admit it to myself, but I started to get used to his presence.

And in these Games, it was always nice to know that someone is there with you.

He was holding two bunnies this time, and he looked pretty proud of himself. "We're goanna have a feast," He informed me, smiling a wide smile.

It was rather nice, having a whole bunny to myself, though it wasn't that tasty. I wanted to go hunting myself, to show him how you really hunt an animal that was bigger than a bunny.

But of course I couldn't do it.

So I had to accept the fact that I'll have to eat those damn bunnies until there'll only be sixth tributes left.

'Cause only then I'll lose my act.

The good thing was, we were getting pretty close to only having six tributes left. I might even lose the act in the next day or two…

"You know, I think I'm getting better at this," Hale said, his mouth full with raw bunny.

"Getting better at what?" I asked, confused.

"Hunting!" He said, and pointed at his bunny, then at mine. "See? Not one, but two!"

"You were always a great hunter," I lied and let out a sigh. "I just wish I knew how to hunt."

"Maybe I'll teach you. Tomorrow, or something," He said with a smile.

Even though I knew that I shouldn't accept the offer, I nodded. I really had to kill something. Not doing anything killed me from the inside.

Hale then looked at the empty water bottles and took them. He then handed them to me, and I looked at him incredulously.

"They're empty," He informed me.

No shit. "I can see that," I said, not knowing what he wanted.

"Care to fill them with water from the pond?"

Yes. Yes, I actually do care.

Oh, if only I could say that...

"Okay," I said and grabbed them, though I really just wanted to throw then at him. But, as I had to remind to myself, he hunted the bunnies. He provided the food, so now I had to provide the drink.

Just as I turned around and started walking to the pond, a boom sounded, indicating us getting into the final eight.

I was about to turn to face Hale, to ask him who did he think it was, but just as I was about to, I felt a sharp pain in my upper arm.

It was a knife.

I quickly turned to see who the douchebag who just hit me was, but the only person that was there was Hale.

He smiled his weird smile, which now seemed... evil, and anxious.

It was him who threw the knife at me.

Oh, son of a bitch.

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><p><strong>Two chapters in one hour? Am I awesome or what?<strong>

**To answer this question, no. No, I'm not awesome. Just extremely bored. It's almost 4 am and I'm not tired AT ALL, so I decided that I might as well just continue with the story.**

**And this chapter, well the end of it really, is the beginning of the second part of the story - Johanna dropping her annoying act and killing people.**

**Yay for that!**

**And, because I'm posting two new chapters at 4 am, and because Hale just threw a knife at Johanna (Saw that coming? Please tell me if you saw that coming!), I really, REALLY hope you review. It's super important to me.**

**So, review?**

**Please?**

**Have a lovely day :)**


	10. Chapter 10

******************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.******************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

I looked at Hale, shocked. I felt something clenching in my stomach at the sight of his smile; it always creeped me out before, and now I knew why. The guy was just playing me! _Me_! Johanna fucking Mason!

I actually felt quite embarrassed by it.

But did he fall for my act as well, or was he smarter than I actually gave him credit for?

"I'm sorry Johanna," He said, actually sounding sincere. "But it's The Hunger Games, after all. You were bound to die at some point."

So he did fall for my act. At least I wasn't the only moron here.

I kept thinking how I should handle the situation. Should I just drop the act now?

So, if I'll tell him that all this time I was only acting like I was weak but wasn't actually weak, he'll kill me. He had too many knives in his hands.

But I couldn't just keep my act. He'd still kill me.

So what should I do?

"W-why did you even a-allied w-with me? Just to k-kill me?" I asked, sobbing. I needed to keep him occupied, and crying, apparently, was the best way to do so.

Hale still pointed a long knife at me, but didn't act yet. Apparently he thought he owed me at least an explanation for his betrayal. "Yes," He said, actually sounding like he was sorry about it.

"Why?" I asked, trying to sound more betrayed than curious.

"It was all a part of my plan," He explained, getting closer. I backed away, not wanting him to get too close. I still had to think of a plan that would keep me alive. "You see, I'm not the strongest contender here -" ...Keep a straight face and don't snort at the obviousity of his statement... "- and, well, I needed a way to make people think I'm stronger than what I really am. And which way is better than to team up with the weakest tribute out there?"

He got closer and closer, but slowly, and I moved just as slowly backwards. I had to calculate everything before I act, and keeping him talk was my best option at the moment.

"You see, now that they saw me taking care of you, I have way more sponsors than I had before. You made me look stronger by your uselessness, and for that I thank you."

Oh, fuck him.

"But now that you're saying your plan… don't you t-think those sponsors w-would just… stop being y-your sponsors?" I asked, tears running down my face.

"No, because now… well, now they see I also have a brain, thinking of this plan. They also see that I'm not afraid to kill people I'm close to, something they always appreciate," He said with a smile. I had to admit, he was right about the last part. The Capitol loved betrayals in the arena.

I couldn't walk backwards anymore; there was a big tree there. Hale cornered me. He was close now, too close. I was now able to feel his breathe on my skin. see the glint in his eyes. He wanted this to happen. He wanted to kill me, so that the people in the Capitol would like him more.

I moved my hand oh-so-slowly to grab the knife that was in my belt. Thankfully he didn't notice, and kept looking at my face, right into my eyes.

"I am sorry Johanna," He said simply. "I actually like you. I'm sorry it had to come down to this."

I clenched the knife in my hand tightly, embracing myself for what I was about to do. "C-can I just say o-one thing? B-before you k-kill me?" I cried.

He looked at me for several more minutes, the knife in his hand pointing at me, and then shrugged. "I guess."

I took a deep, calming breath and then, with a swift motion, pulled the knife out of my belt and stabbed him in the stomach. "You're not the only who can act," I said simply.

He looked surprised, shocked, and couldn't keep himself standing. He fell to the ground, breathing hard, the knife still deep in his stomach.

I turned my head to look at the cut on my shoulder. "Fuck, it hurts like hell," I muttered and eyed the cut. It was a pretty deep cut; I shouldn't have let Hale go to the woods and hunt. He got better with the knife.

I walked quickly to his bag of knives and pulled a really long one, with a very sharp blade, then walked to him again. "Think this knife will do the job?"

Hale looked at me with an incredulous look. "Did you just… stab me?"

"I thought it was quite obvious. But maybe you're dumber than I thought you were," I said sarcastically.

He kept staring at me, his lips slightly parted because of the pain and, apparently, the astonishment. "I don't get it…"

"Come on, Hale, it's not that hard to understand. I can repeat it really slowly if you'd like, so that even a brainless moron like you can understand it: I. Stabbed. You. In. The -"

"Johanna, stop it," He said, his voice hoarse. "What...?

"Look, you tried to kill me, and now, I'm going to kill you. I mean, it's The Hunger Games. You were bound to die at some point," I said, repeating what he said to me a few minutes ago.

"But…" The realization sank in. "It was all just an act, wasn't it?"

Took him time to understand.

"What? You mean, me being the oh-so-pathetic-so-weak-and-stupid-Johanna-Mason?" I said, smirking. "Of course. No one can be _that_ pathetic."

I walked closer to him, kicking the knife that was next to him aside, so that he won't be able to reach it, and then kneeled down next to him. He still looked quite surprised, but there was another thing now… he also looked… impressed?

"Nice act," He said finally.

I shrugged. "I know." It really was a nice act.

"Did you ever suspect me? You know, that I was acting, too?" He asked, looking quite curious despite his current position.

"Yes," I lied smoothly. "You always smirked, and that smirk made me suspicious. I saw right through your act, but played along."

He nodded his head slowly, and then lay on his back, breathing heavily. It seemed like he was in physical pain, which of course he was. I just stabbed him with a knife right in his stomach, after all.

"So the schemer just schemed the schemer," Hale said simply.

"Don't flatter yourself so much. We're not in the same league."

He chuckled slightly, which apparently brought him a whole lot of pain.

He looked at me again, his eyelids half-closed. "Are you going to kill me?"

I eyed him for several moments. "That's what I'm supposed to do." I shrugged. "After all, in this Games it's either kill or be killed, outlast the others and such. And since I don't want to die a painful death in here, in this stupid, stupid place... then you have to die."

He seemed to accept this actually; he didn't try to fight me, didn't move a muscle and just focused on his breathings. "Just do it fast, okay?" He said finally. "I don't want my sisters to… to see this. Don't want them to see me suffer or anything."

I knew that if I wanted to appear strong to the Capitol I needed to kill him slowly and painfully and to enjoy it. I knew it. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was just human, after all, and it was his dying wish. And to be honest, I really didn't give a shit about what the Capitol thought about me.

"Fine," I said, and raised the knife in my hand. "Any last words?"

He looked at me with bright eyes. "Well played," Was all he said.

I felt the corners of my mouth twitching upward, but didn't stop them. I raised the knife even more, and said "Goodbye, Hale." And with that, I stabbed him in the throat.

He twitched on the ground for several moments, choking on his own blood. I found it really disturbing to look at, and so I turned to look at the ground instead. I didn't close my eyes or shut my ears when I heard him choking; it would be a sign of weakness. So I had to suffer silently while Hale died.

At least it didn't take too long, and the BOOM sounded only a minute later.

I looked at Hale's dead body. His eyes were blank, his mouth was opened, and two knives were stuck in his body, one in his throat and one in his stomach.

I couldn't look at his eyes though; it always gave me the creeps, looking at someone's dead eyes. Made me remember of my mother's. So I reached out and closed his eyelids.

I then turned away and walked for a while, so that the hovercraft would be able to take him away. And so, when I saw that the hovercraft was leaving the place, I returned.

He wasn't there anymore.

I felt… sick, really. Not just sick though; I felt several different things that made me feel dizzy. I felt disgusted, disoriented and relieved. Disgusted, because I remembered the sounds he made when he choked on his own blood. Disoriented, because I just killed a person, something I never actually did before. And relieved, 'cause now I finally dropped my act. Now the Capitol knows who I really am. Now I don't have to want to kill myself out of frustration, thank god.

But I still thought I needed to show them I was actually capable of killing, and with that in my mind I walked into the woods, Hale's knife in my hand.

I only had to search for a little while before I saw a rabbit. Not a small one, but a pretty fat one that was eating some disgustingly looking plants.

I raised the knife, and stuck it in the rabbit's back. The rabbit twitched on the ground, helpless though not dead yet.

I took the still-not-dead rabbit in my right hand. It twitched in my hand, wanting to break free, but not able to run away. I walked straight towards a big rock and slammed the rabbit against the rock.

There was a sickening cracking sound, and the rabbit became still.

Really, what was wrong with Hale? That was so freaking easy.

I put the rabbit on the rock and with my knife opened its belly. I started cleaning it, taking all of the disgusting stuff out of it. When the rabbit was clean enough, I got it closer to my mouth, and was about to take my first bite when a parachute landed next to me.

I put the rabbit on the rock and walked quickly to the parachute. I wasn't surprised I had sponsors; I probably had none at first, but after what I did to Hale, I just had to get a sponsor or two.

I unwrapped the silk fabric that wrapped my gift and looked at what it contained in shock.

Inside of it there were a lighter, a plate and a fork.

I guess I had more than one or two sponsors.

I took the lighter and looked at it with a satisfied smile. They knew I was terrible at making fire; I had no skills in that area whatsoever. Apparently, they wanted me to eat a normal, cooked meal, now that they saw I was not as helpless as it seemed at first.

I really didn't understand why they sent me a plate and a fork though; were they disgusted with my eating habits, or was it just a way of my dear mentor to tell me I had a lot of sponsors' money to spend?

I really hoped it was the latter.

I decided to put the fork and the plate away from me on the ground. What a stupid gift. Seriously, it's The Hunger Games. Why would I need a fork and a plate?

I'd kill my mentor, what's-her-name, when I return.

The lighter, however, was very important to me, and so I took it and started working on a fire. It still took me a lot of time to make a fire, but at least I managed to make one. I cooked the rabbit, and when I ate it cooked, it really was kind of a relief.

I ate too many raw bunnies in here; I deserved a cooked one.

The night came, and after I ruined the fire, I lay on the ground under my backpack that was once Hale's, and behind a bush, so that no one could see me. It was kind of bad, to not have a person to watch out for me. But it was also way more exciting that way, now that I had to rely on myself and only myself.

The anthem played not very long after, and I turned to look at the sky. Four dead tributes. The first tribute to be shown was the male tribute from District One, who was a Career.

Awesome.

The next tribute was the female tribute from Five. Then I saw Hale's face, and I felt something twisting in my stomach. Was it guilt? Was it regret? No, I didn't regret killing him, nor did I regret the way I killed him. I killed him pretty fast, really. Not a painful death.

I realized later what this feeling was; sadness. I was sad to see him go. Because, as much as I didn't like admitting it to myself, he was here for me, even if we both just played each other. He was my ally, and I actually grew to... well, not like him, but stand him.

I still didn't regret his death.

The last one to appear in the sky was Hale's district partner. Kind of tragic for District Six, really. Both of their tributes died in the same day, and were both so close to the finish.

Sucks to be them.

The anthem then played again, and the sky turned dark. It was a cold night, but not freezing, which was a really good thing. I didn't forget the Games when the tributes froze to death at night.

I wondered what the Capitol thought of me and my act now. Were they excited? Were they annoyed? Were they indifferent?

Well, if they were, they won't be for long, I thought to myself as I tried desperately to fall asleep. I was going to give them one hell of a show.

* * *

><p><strong>So, Hale's dead.<strong>

**...**

**Oh well.**

**To be honest, unlike most of you guys, I didn't really hate Hale. I thought he was cute. Stupid, yeah, and annoying, and turned out he was playing Johanna this whole time, but still cute.**

**But he had to die, and I'm not sorry about that.**

**Only four more chapters until the end of this story! I'm only writing until the end of Johanna's Games, so... yeah, it's going to end soon. Real soon.**

**Hope you all have a lovely day, and please review! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

********************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.********************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

I woke up the next morning by myself. It was a strange feeling, knowing there was no one here with me.

It made me actually feel free.

I drank some water I got from the pond and ate what was left from the rabbit I killed yesterday. It was colder and dryer than it was yesterday, but it was still edible.

I decided I shouldn't stay in this camp anymore; I had to hunt down the other tributes, had to find the person who had my axe. I wasn't nervous when I started walking, just excited. I packed everything, all the things that were in the camp.

I walked for several hours deeper into the jungle. I held two knives in my hands this whole time, in case I'll see someone. I had to be prepared.

There were only six other people here to hunt. Six other people that had to die in order for me to live. And cruel as it may be, I wanted to be the one killing them. I wanted to leave this place with the feeling that I did everything I could do to win and wasn't just a stupid girl who won by sheer luck.

I walked slowly for several more minutes before I smelt it. Something that smelt like rotten meat. I walked slowly and quietly towards the smell, careful not to be heard and not to be seen, until I found the source of the smell.

A girl, who I didn't remember which district she was from, sat by herself next to a dead deer. It seemed like the deer was there for several days, so she probably wasn't the one killing it. Most likely she found it and hoped it was still edible. What a brainless moron; it was so clear this thing was rotten, even a Capitol citizen would have realized it.

I thought for a moment about what I should do; should I go there and attack the girl right away? She didn't seem weak. On the contrary; her muscles were bigger than mine were, and it was clear she was in great shape. She was probably handy with a weapon, too. She shifted slightly in her place and I saw something shining next to her. I concentrated on that thing and tried to see it more clearly. Only when the girl shifted again was I able to see the shining weapon that was next to her clearly.

It was an axe.

_My_ axe.

I had to have it.

And with that on my mind, I changed my face expression into a lame, scared one and stumbled into the clearing so that the girl could see me.

She was quickly on her feet when she heard me coming, but as she saw who I was she looked less nervous. Actually, she smiled a little.

Bitch.

"The District Seven girl," She said, still smiling. "The coward girl. What's your name again? Mira? Dianna?"

"J-Johanna," I stammered, looking pathetic and scared.

"Well, I was close," She shrugged and walked towards me, my axe in her hands. "Sorry for what I'm about to do," She said, not sounding apologetic at all; she seemed quite pleased, actually. "I'm also sorry to say, this won't be fast. We're in the final seven, after all, and the crowd_ loves_ to see a death filled with blood."

I actually shivered, though not because of her words; I shivered because of the glint in her eyes, that evil glint. She meant every word she said.

I held the knife tightly in my hand, and, with a swift motion, threw the other knife I held at her. She dodged it quickly, her smile still on her face.

"Missed me," She whispered and walked closer, the axe still in her hands. She lifted it –

And I threw my other knife at her, and this time it hit her right in the hand holding the axe.

It wasn't a deep cut though, and she was still able to hold the axe. She did look surprise though, that I was able to throw sharp things at her. She didn't see it coming.

She gritted her teeth and lifted the axe again at me. I didn't have any weapon now; the other knives were in my backpack. Fucking perfect. I turned around and started running into the jungle while getting the stupid backpack off my back. I could hear the girl running after me, and I knew she wanted to throw the axe at me. I didn't have much time.

I opened the backpack as I was running and tucked my hand into it, searching for the knives, but they were at the bottom of the backpack. I cursed as I continued to run; the girl was still behind me, but she ran faster than me. She was so close, I could hear her breathing. She didn't throw the axe at me though; she probably didn't want to kill me so fast. After all, she said she wanted to give the audience a show.

I felt a hand grabbing my ankle and I tripped to the ground, the backpack flying from my hands to the ground next to me, but not very close. I felt something, or more accurate someone on me. This someone spun me on my back, and I saw the girl with the axe looking at me with this evil glint she had.

She lifted the axe, and looked at me thoughtfully.

"What should I cut off first?" She whispered. "Your arms? Your legs? Maybe I should cut this pretty face of yours."

I was desperate; I tried to kick her, but she sat on my stomach, and my legs just couldn't hit her. I tried to punch her, but my hands were both held tightly in her hand that wasn't holding the axe. I couldn't admit defeat though; I had to win. I had to. I couldn't die here like some kind of an unimportant animal.

So, as she lifted her axe a bit more, she lost her firm grip on my hands, and I quickly reached to the open backpack and grabbed the first sharp thing I laid my hand on. Before the girl could cut off my hand or whatever she wanted to cut, I stuck the sharp thing into her throat.

I was blind; her blood splattered on my face, my eyes and mouth. I couldn't see. I could only hear a loud noise, like the sound of a tree hitting the ground after being cut off, only quieter. I could feel the weight of the girl that was on me leaving me, and I knew the falling object was the girl who only a moment ago tried to kill me.

I got on my feet quickly and spat the blood that got into my mouth. After I cleaned my eyes from the girl's blood, I turned to look at her. She was on the ground, breathing hard, her axe, which was about to become _my_ axe, was next to her on the ground. I turned my gaze to look at her throat, at the sharp thing I stuck there.

It was the fork I got yesterday.

A death by a fork.

Haha.

I walked towards the girl, whose name I still didn't know, and kneeled down next to her. She could barely breathe; the fork pierced her trachea. She had only minutes left to live.

But I didn't want to let her off that easily; not after the way she wanted to kill me.

So, with a small unhappy smile, I grabbed the axe that was still next to her. A rush of familiarity washed me from the inside as I held the shining piece of weapon. It was so good to hold it. So, _so_ good.

And now it was the time to see it in action.

"So, what should I cut off first?" I whispered to the girl, who looked at me with wet eyes; it looked like she was barely aware of her surroundings, like she was in some kind of a daze. The fork really hit her hard.

I lifted the axe and brought it down on the dying girl; in a loud crack, I cut off her hand. If she was able to cry, she would have done it. But since she wasn't able to breathe enough air to do that, she had no other choice but to stay silent while I cut off other parts of her body.

The next part was her other hand; then her whole right arm, then her whole left arm. I felt nausea from all the blood that spilled from her open cuts. I wanted to throw up so badly, but I swallowed it and continued with my work. It was horrible, it was sick and twisted, but it was necessary. The crowd had to see that this all act of mine was just that; an act.

The girl died when I cut off her leg.

And then there were six.

Five other tributes to hunt.

I got on my feet and didn't look at the girl whose name I didn't know. There was blood everywhere. Her body parts were scattered around her. She died a horrible, awful death.

And I caused it.

I couldn't help it anymore; I threw up, disgusted by what I just did. I was a monster.

I kept telling to myself she was a monster too; after all, she tried to kill me, wanted to kill me in the same way I just killed her. But the difference between her and me was that I actually _did_ it. She didn't, even though she wanted to.

This, what I just did, broke me for good. Knowing that I just did that made me realize I could do this again, that I was able to kill a person, piece by piece. Knowing this made my mind foggy and made my heart stiffen.

I really was a monster.

I grabbed the axe in my hand again and put the backpack on my back, then walked without looking back. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. And I really didn't want to see the girl again.

I hunt a rabbit at what seemed to be twilight, and ate it raw. I couldn't find the strength in me to build a fire and wait for the rabbit to be cooked, even with the lighter I had. I wasn't even that hungry; I still felt sick to my stomach. The girl's bloodied body didn't leave my mind.

I looked up at the sky when the anthem played. There was only one face in the sky that night. The girl I killed. She was from District One, which probably meant the Careers alliance was broken. It was obviously easier now, to just find them and kill them, now that they were each Career on his own.

I caught a glimpse of the girl's name before her face disappeared from the sky. Annaleigh. Knowing her name now made me want to throw up again; it seemed more personal now.

I hated myself and hated what I did, but there was no other way.

It was The Hunger Game, after all. And in The Hunger Games, the strongest one gets to live.

And I had to be the strongest.

* * *

><p><strong>It's one of my favorite chapters :)<strong>

**Please review! It only takes a few seconds of your time, and makes me super happy!**

**And have a lovely day :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**********************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**********************

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

I walked even deeper into the jungle the next morning. I didn't want to kill anyone, at least not in the way I killed that girl yesterday. But I knew I had to; this was what expected of me now.

I held this time three knives in my hands, just in case. The axe was in my backpack, safely secured in my sleeping bag.

I didn't hear a thing though; only the sound of birds. They chirped in pleasure, not having a care in the world. Those brainless creatures were also making it very hard for me to concentrate on other noises.

I decided to make camp at around noon that day after my unsuccessful hunt for tributes. I did better in hunting bunnies and caught two. I built a fire and waited for them to be cooked.

I looked around me. This place looked nice; there were a lot of trees here, and a big pond not too far away. The air though wasn't as good as the air in my district, probably because in my district the trees were actually real. Those trees… well, they weren't made of plastic, they looked real enough, but they weren't actual trees. The Capitol probably found a way to duplicate trees or something, and those duplicates, as nice as they were, just weren't the real thing.

When I started eating the first bunny I heard something. A cracking twig. It looked like something, or someone, accidently stepped on it.

I got on my feet quickly and grabbed the knives that were still next to me. I turned around, but didn't see anyone.

And then an arrow shot at me. I dodged it quickly and looked at the place the arrow came from with narrowed eyes. I couldn't see anyone.

"If you're trying to kill me, at least do it face to face and don't hide like a coward!" I called impatiently.

Jeez, those stupid tributes.

I heard a chuckle. "So I guess you aren't really that lame," A female voice said, and then the girl who said it walked out from her place behind a tree.

I looked at her with narrowed eyes. Her skin was dark, which probably meant she was from District Eleven. She wasn't big, but she had some muscles after years of working in the field. She pointed an arrow at me, but still didn't shoot.

"Did you kill anyone yet?" The girl asked me, looking interested.

I was surprised by the question, but decided to answer anyway. "The male tribute from District Six and the female tribute from District One."

"District One?" The girl asked, sounding surprised and impressed.

I nodded my head, my eyes not leaving hers. Did she really like to have small-talks with her prey? "What about you?"

"I killed the female tribute from Twelve," She said flatly.

I wasn't impressed to say the least. The girl from District Twelve was tiny, only twelve. This girl probably lurked for tributes behind the bushes and shot an arrow at them when they passed. Or maybe she was too afraid to shoot the bigger, stronger tributes so she shot the younger, more pathetic ones. Like the girl from Twelve, and me.

She took a deep breath as she looked at me, and prepared to shoot, but right as she was about to I threw a knife at her. It hit her forehead, and she shivered as blood ran from her cut to her eyes.

She shot at me an arrow, but missed me because of the blood that dripped to her eyes. She couldn't see me clearly, which was just awesome.

I threw another knife at her, which missed her. She then loaded another arrow and shot it at me. This time it hit me right in the arm, and I gritted my teeth as I pulled it out.

I opened my backpack quickly and grabbed my axe; it wasn't a big one, but it was in a decent size and was sharp enough to cut a person's throat. I lifted it and was about to throw it at her when I heard something.

A lot of somethings.

It was a weird sound, an unfamiliar one. One that I didn't like, that made me feel disoriented and uncomfortable. The girl from Eleven lowered her bow in response to the noise, but I didn't hit her; we were both too concentrated on the noise.

It got closer, and I wanted to run away, but my legs were like stuck to the ground. I couldn't move from the panic that washed me, and by the looks of it, the other girl was in the same state as I was.

And then the creatures came from the trees and I could see clearly what they were.

Insects.

Lots of them, and they were all coming to us.

They were Capitol made, I was sure of it. This meant trouble; this was dangerous. My legs finally moved, and I took a step back as the insects, those big insects, came closer to us in a terrifying speed. There were hundreds of them, and they made this horrible ticking noise as they came.

I started to run, the only thought in my head was to escape those creatures. The other girl ran behind me, but she was closer to them and they got closer to her. I felt something on me and realized it was one of the insects. I shook my hand, trying to get it off me, but the insect, that looked like some sort of a beetle, was still on me. It started walking up my arm until it got to the cut I got from the other girl's arrow. I cried a horrified cry as the beetle dug its way inside my cut and walked inside of me. I could see it moving underneath my skin.

I wanted to vomit, and I was horrified and panicked. I grabbed one of my knives and, with only one thought in my head that I had to get this thing out of me, cut my skin where the beetle was. I hit the beetle and killed it, though now I had a very deep cut that I made.

I ran even faster, determined not to have another beetle on me, when I heard a horrified scream. I turned my head to look at the girl from Eleven; I could see the beetles crawling inside of her, and her eyes were wide with horror.

I felt bad for her, I really did, but she had to die and I had to live. So I didn't stop running and left her behind. I heard a thump and realized she fell to the ground; she didn't stop screaming.

The beetles kept on coming, and I was desperate. I had to find a way to escape them. Should I keep running? No, they would catch me. Should I climb up a tree? They can probably climb better than me. Then what should I do?

And just as I was about to give up, I saw a pond. I jumped into it quickly and prayed that those beetles weren't able to swim.

Apparently they weren't, and so they just circled the pond, waiting for me to get out of it. Like I'd decide to get out of the security of the pond and go to them.

Brainless insects.

I would stay in here forever if I had to.

I could see the girl from Eleven screaming on the ground. There were insects on her, next to her, inside of her. She stopped screaming after a while, and I realized she fainted. Not long after, a cannon boomed.

And that was the end of the District Eleven girl.

The insects weren't finished with her though; they ate her, from the inside and outside. I closed my eyes at the sight of it. I wanted to throw up again. It was disgusting, horrible and just plain awful. But this was the Hunger Games, after all. The Capitol citizens liked this kind of shit.

When I heard a hovercraft coming I opened my eyes again; the insects were still circling the pond, but the other insects left the girl's body. It didn't look like a body anymore; it looked like a torn rag.

After the hovercraft left with the girl's "body", the insects shifted in their place. I looked at them challengingly, wanting them to get the hell away from me.

And they did; after what seemed like hours, they decided to leave. I didn't get out of the water until the last of the insects disappeared.

I shook terribly from the cold and from disgust. I built a fire and tried to get warmer, but I was cold inside. My body was able to function and work, but what was inside of it, my soul and heart, were dead and cold.

I received another bandage from my sponsors, and bandaged the cut I made with it. My skin was still tingling from the way the beetle got under it; it was a weird, horrible feeling.

The anthem played and I looked at the sky; the girl from Eleven's face was shown. She smiled a nice smile. She didn't look deadly. She looked like a regular girl who just wanted to live. And now, she was dead, and everyone except for her family and friends will forget about her. She wasn't memorable; she was just a girl who died in the arena.

Nothing special. She wasn't the first to die for the Capitol's entertainment, and she definitely won't be the last.

This was exactly why I needed to survive. I wanted to be memorable; I didn't want to leave this world without leaving an effect on someone. No one would miss me if I die, no one would remember me. No one would care.

And I needed people to keep thinking of me after my death; I didn't want to be forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>Yuck. Yuck, yuck yuck yuck yuck. I hate bugs. Always have and always will. <strong>

**Hope you review, and have a lovely, bugs-free day :)**


	13. Chapter 13

************************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.************************

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

I stayed the whole next day next to the pond where I hid when the bugs attacked, in case they'll come again. They didn't though, and I had a day off.

No one died that day, which was a pretty bad thing. There were four other tributes still alive, and knowing this made me feel so close to victory, yet so far from it. Because they were obviously good, if they stayed alive for such a long time.

But I was better.

The tributes that were still alive were both tributes from Two, the female tribute from Four and the male tribute from Eight. I didn't remember their names, and I didn't remember their faces. I just didn't pay to any of them much attention.

Now I regretted it, because it meant I didn't know what I was up against.

Really, there were times when even my extraordinary, genius self could be stupid.

Later that day I thought to myself that I should've left this place, that I should've tracked the other tributes and kill them and get this thing over with. But I actually didn't care too much; I needed this rest right now, and I guessed the Capitol wouldn't send mutts at me right now. They all know what I'm capable of, after all. They'll want to see me kill other tributes, because that's what they like.

Sick bastards.

This annoyed me, knowing that I killed living people for the enjoyment of stupid, brainless people. This made me feel like some sort of a puppet, controlled by higher authorities, but I knew that when I'll get out of here – and I will – they won't be able to control me. I'll give them hell, give Snow hell, and they'll just have to cope with it. I'll be a Hunger Games' victor, after all. I will be able to do whatever I'd like and not give a damn.

I built a fire, not caring if someone would see it. I just wanted to keep warm. The night came quickly, and the anthem played and showed that no one died, like I didn't know it. It really was a useless, boring day.

I hoped the Gamemakers sent mutts to one or two of the tributes. To make them weak; this will make it easier for me to kill them in the end.

After the anthem played, a voice boomed in the arena. Seneca's voice. He congratulated all of us, the last five tributes, and informed us that there was going to be a feast tomorrow, at the Cornucopia. He said we should all come, because this might end it all.

I doubted this all thing would end so quickly like that, but maybe it would. I hoped it would.

I wondered if I should go to the feast or not, but at the end decided I should go. I had to see the other tributes, to know what they're capable of.

So the next day I packed my bag and made my way to the Cornucopia. It was pretty far from my current place, but oh well. I didn't care if the walk made me feel exhausted; I wasn't going to fight at the feast. Too early to blow off my cover to the District Two tributes.

I could see the shining horn after a long while of walking and walked even quicker to it. When I was close enough, I kneeled behind a bush and made myself comfortable. I wasn't about to race to the Cornucopia and grab food – I was capable of getting food on my own. My plan for this feast was to observe the other four tributes, and that's it.

They were probably here already, surrounding the golden horn, waiting for the table with the food to appear. It seemed like the time ran faster than it's supposed to, and before I knew it a big table appeared out of nowhere.

And when the table appeared, the other tributes appeared as well.

First the female tribute from Four jumped out from behind a tree and started running to the Cornucopia. Upon seeing her, the two District Two tributes ran out of their hidden place, behind a bush, and raced the girl from Four to the table. They got to her, and she turned around and dodged the knife the female tribute from Two just threw at her.

They started fighting. The girl from Four fought with spears and knives. The boy from Two fought with a mace. The girl from Two fought with a sword.

The girl from Four fought well, and tried her hardest to kill at least one of the two beasts from Two. She threw one of her spears at the girl from Two, who dodged it quickly and, just as quickly, lifted her sword in order to kill the girl from Four. The sword hit her, but not hard enough, and she was still able to hold herself on her feet. The boy from Two lifted his mace and, with a swift motion, tried to hit the girl from Four. But she was too quick for him, and she bent down as the mace went over her. The boy from Two's torso was right in front of her then, exposed, and he couldn't defend himself. He was still completing the circular motion of the mace. And so, the girl from Four, without much waiting, lifted her spear and stuck it in the boy's torso.

He died almost immediately.

The girl from Two was angry. She lifted her sword and, with a swift motion, beheaded the girl from Four. She didn't even blink as she did so, and the girl from Four didn't see it coming.

And that was the end of the girl from District Four.

The girl from Two, whose name I didn't know, kneeled on the ground next to her ally. She didn't cry and she didn't look sad. She just looked pissed off, that someone killed her partner like that. Maybe she wanted to kill him herself.

She was still in a pretty good shape. She wasn't cut, she wasn't in pain, and the adrenaline still rushed through her veins, seeing as her face was all red with fury. She breathed hard, and she looked mad. Her black hair was disheveled, her brown eyes were wide with anger, and her lower lip was trembling.

I took a deep breath and grabbed my axe. But I didn't move from behind the bush; I was still waiting for the boy from Eight to come.

The girl from Two, apparently, waited for him too, because she looked around her with that mad look in her eyes. She wanted to kill him, to end the games. She didn't care about me at all and I knew it. I was actually pretty okay with it.

I felt impatient, and was about to show myself to the girl after thinking that maybe the boy just didn't come when something flew at the girl from Two and missed her just by an inch.

And then the boy from Eight emerged from behind a tree, and I was surprised to see how strong he looked, how… well, intimidating. I tried to remember his reaping, but I couldn't. I tried to remember the score he got from the Gamemakers, but I couldn't. I tried to remember his interview with Caesar, but I couldn't. I didn't look at him at all during my time in the Capitol, didn't care for him, didn't take notice of him.

I should have though; this was probably my worst mistake. Not being prepared, not knowing my opponents.

He had big muscles, tanned skin, dark hair and dark eyes. He wasn't attractive, but he had this look in his eyes that said he was smarter than he looked. He held a knife in one hand and a whip in the other hand.

He threw the knife at the District Two girl, who dodged it like she dodged the first knife he threw at her. She lifted her sword and looked at the whip in his hand with narrowed eyes. She wasn't used to this weapon, I realized quickly. She didn't know what it was able to do, how to dodge it.

I didn't too, and this made my stomach stir with fear.

The boy stepped closer to the girl, the whip in his hand. I stepped from behind my bush to see them more clearly. They could see me, I knew it, and I knew they saw me from the corner of their eyes, but they ignored me completely. They only had eyes for each other, and they couldn't be bothered with paying attention to the little, pathetic girl from District Seven.

I saw the girl from Two finally lifting her sword and was about to lunge herself at the boy from Eight when he lashed at her with his whip. The lash tightened around her hand and the girl screamed in surprise. She was able to get away from the whip, and I could see that the lash left a blue mark on her hand. As I watched, the mark became darker until it was black.

This wasn't a regular whip; no whip could do that much damage, I was sure of it. The girl from Two probably got to the same realization as I did, and looked at her hand with wide eyes. The boy from District Eight laughed an unhappy laugh.

"It's poisoned," He said flatly and looked at the Career girl without even blinking. "It's extremely deadly. You'll die anyway, so I think you can just give up now. You don't have the antidote, after all."

"I'll have the antidote when I get out of this arena," The girl hissed and lunged herself at him again, apparently not learning from her former mistake.

The whip lashed at her again, and now her cheek was black. She got whipped by the boy again and again mercilessly, and she was now covered in black. Her blood wasn't reaching the areas the poisoned lash whipped at. She could barely breathe now.

She kneeled on the ground, coughing blood. Her eyes were red, her body black, and, after several moments, she took her last breath and turned silent.

A few minutes later a cannon shoot, indicating the death of the girl from District Two.

The boy from District Eight smiled a small smile, not regretting what he did. Why would he regret it, after all? This just meant he was one step closer to win.

And now, I was his only competition.

He turned around and looked at me with an evil look. He stepped forward, the whip in his hand, and I lifted my axe, eyeing his whip.

I didn't know exactly how not to get hit by his weapon. The only thing I learnt from the brainless girl from Two was not to lunge myself at him.

"Where did you get the axe?" The boy asked as he saw my axe. "I didn't see you in the Cornucopia."

"Got it from the girl from District One," I said, shrugging.

The boy looked surprised by this, and eyed me with a serious look, his satisfied smile leaving his face. "You're the girl from Seven, right?"

I nodded my head, still looking at his whip. I had to find a way to avoid getting hit by it. "And you're from Eight."

He nodded, even though it wasn't a question but a statement. "So, the little, shaking, trembling girl you were was just -"

"An act? Yeah," I said dryly. I stepped closer to him, but didn't attack. "Where did you get the poison from?"

"A sponsor," He said with an evil smile. "What did you get?"

"Some bandages," I said, knowing that keeping a conversation with the boy was necessary. "A lighter. And a fork."

The boy snorted but didn't say anything. He was looking at me cautiously.

"To be honest, I would have never guessed you'd be my competition at the end," He said truthfully.

"Just shows that you can never underestimate a crying girl," I said simply.

He smiled his evil smile again, what a dickhead, and then suddenly lifted his whip and tried to lash it at me. I was able to avoid the painful lash and lifted my axe in response. I swung it at him, but he dodged it and lifted his whip again. The lash hit me this time, and I felt a burning pain in my upper arm. I didn't look at the injury though; I had to keep my concentration on the boy, who looked at me with his annoying stupid smile.

At least the lash hit my left arm and not my right.

I lifted me axe and tried to hit him again, but he moved very quickly and avoided the crash of the blade with his head. I tried to hit him again, but he was able to dodge it too.

The fucking git.

My hand was throbbing in pain, and I got dizzy. The lash of the whip hit me again, and now I felt the same burning pain in my leg. I kneeled on the ground, breathing hard.

The whip hit my back. Again. And again. And again.

I found it hard to breathe. I was dying. I had to get the antidote.

This can't be the end of me. I had to stay alive. I had to.

And with that on my mind, I turned to look at the boy from Eight again. He lifted his whip and was about to lash it at me, but before he was able to I lifted my axe and swung it at his arm.

With a shriek of pain, his right hand fell to my lap, the whip held loosely in it.

The boy didn't see it coming; he looked at his hand, shocked, and I got on my feet. My whole body was hurting, and my vision was blurry. I had to get the antidote to the poison quickly, or I'll be dead. This had to end now.

And so I lifted my axe once again, and hit him in his torso.

His eyes were still wide with surprise when he dropped dead on the ground. I heard a cannon shoot and I let myself drop to the ground too. My mind was foggy, and I started coughing blood. I could see black wounds on my body, and I could feel myself losing my grip on reality.

I closed my eyes and lost consciousness.

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><p><strong>Hope it didn't seem too rushed.<strong>

**One more chapter and the story is finished! Ahh! **

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**And have a lovely day :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**************************DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does.**************************

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Is it possible, to be unconscious but still be aware of your surroundings?

From what I've heard before, no, it is not possible, so whatever state I was in, it wasn't unconsciousness.

I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. All I could do was feel; feel the stabbing pain in my arm and leg and back, feel my body ache, feel my inside burning up. I felt like I was about to explode from the excruciating pain.

I think I even coughed blood at one point, though I wasn't so sure about it.

After many hours (at least that's what it seemed like) of painful treatment, I actually fell unconscious. As much as it was probably nice, not to feel the pain in my body, when I woke up all of the pain returned and the nice period of time when I couldn't feel anything was gone.

But I could see and hear again, so that must've meant the doctors removed the poison from my system.

I couldn't find the power to rise from the stiff bed I was in, and decided to just continue lying there and pray that my power would return to me quickly.

Every few minutes a doctor came in to check on me, but I didn't show them that I was awake and aware of them. I was actually too weak to open my eyes, a fact that really annoyed me.

When I did feel better, I rose from the bed and sat there, then looked around at the room I was in. It was a very bright, very white room, with no windows and one metallic door. There were lots of shining, beeping machines next to my bed and a tube was attached to my arm.

I breathed deeply and closed my eyes again, remembering my final battle with the brainless boy from District Eight.

I beat him.

I won.

I'm a victor.

I didn't feel like one, but the fact was, I _am_ a victor.

I heard footsteps and before I knew it someone wearing a white robe opened the door and looked at me with a stupid smile.

"Oh good! You're awake!"

The doctor made me lie in the bed again as he told me the poison was removed from my body, but it will take time until I'd be fully healed.

He then made several regular procedures on me and then told me he's going to tell my mentors I'm awake.

I changed into a sitting position once again and just stared at the wall in front of me until my dear mentors came. Actually, even when they walked into the room I didn't turn to look at them. I didn't want to see them; I didn't care for them. They didn't care for me before the Games.

"Johanna, why didn't you tell us about your plan?" What's-her-face asked, looking annoyed.

I didn't even bother responding. I just wished they would get the hell away from me.

"Johanna, didn't you hear Teresa? She asked you a question," Buffalo said, looking angry with my lack of response.

So I turned to look at them in disdain, and still didn't say anything. This made them even more annoyed, a fact that I absolutely loved.

"What, we're not good enough for you to talk to us?" Teresa asked, her voice rising as she talked.

"No," I said finally, and was happy that my voice wasn't hoarse or anything. "You're just two brainless morons who're worse than garbage, worse than the most disgusting scum there is. I didn't tell you about the plan because neither of you was worth knowing."

This made Teresa shut up and Buffalo to grow angry; he looked at me, his face red. "What, are you trying to find something to say to me about insulting you?" I said unpleasantly. "Must be hard, considering you have a tiny, empty brain."

This made him walk to me and hold my arm painfully. "Say one more thing, and I swear, I'll rip off your body parts, piece by piece," He growled.

What an idiot.

"Oh really? Like what I did to that Career girl?" I asked, and when I saw him wincing as he remembered I smiled and, in a swift motion, released myself from his grip and grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully. He looked rather surprised by the force of the twist, and his face twitched in pain. "Don't ever threaten me again, or I swear, I'll kill you in your sleep," I whispered to him and released him. He backed away from me, rubbing his arm.

"Now get the fuck out of here," I said to the both of them. "I don't need you here, and I don't want you here."

They looked at me angrily, but obeyed and walked out of the room. It made me feel better, telling them to fuck off like I wanted to do for so long.

And now I could.

I rose from the bed and got the tube that was still attached to my arm out of me. It hurt, but I just gritted my teeth and was about to take the robe off of me when a young doctor walked into the room.

He looked at me with wide eyes. "You're not supposed to get out of the bed!"

I just looked at him with narrowed eyes and got the robe off of me. I didn't care that I didn't wear anything under the robe; why would I care? It's just a naked body, nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of.

The doctor looked at my body, his eyes widening, but I still didn't care. "Where are my clothes?" I asked him dryly.

"Your stylist… he didn't have the time to – make you anything yet, but – where are you going?" He asked, panicking as I walked out of the room, not letting him finish his sentence.

I found my stylist rather quickly, and he put me in a shirt and a pair of pants, which were both so, _so_ ugly. I didn't bother complementing him – I actually mocked his clothes. He looked offended, but didn't say anything. I think he was scared of me. Good. He should be.

Several doctors came to me again and practically begged me to get back to the bed and let them finish my treatment, but I just told them all to fuck off and leave me alone. And they did just that; maybe they weren't so brainless after all.

I spent the rest of my time in an empty room by myself, yelling at anyone who disturbed my solitude. I didn't want company – not now, not ever.

At the end, my stylist came and informed me I had to get dressed for my interview. I decided to obey and let him dress me in a blood-red dress with low V neckline and an elegant pearl necklace. He didn't try to change my appearance too much; maybe because he knew I wouldn't like it.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a comfortable sofa next to Caesar, whose hair was red and matched my dress. The crowd went nuts when they saw me – apparently I was the crowd's favorite.

Yay me.

After the three-hours video of the Games Caesar started asking questions. "So, Johanna, how was it like to play the pathetic girl who no one should be scared of?"

"Annoying," I replied honestly. "I hated every minute of it. Luckily, everyone was stupid enough to believe it."

The crowd didn't think I also meant them when I said everyone, the brainless morons they were, and cheered very loudly. Caesar, however, apparently understood I meant them, and his smile was more fake than before. "Well, you fooled everyone, that's for sure." He looked at me again, his smile not so fake anymore. "What made you act like this?"

"I wanted to live," I said simply. "I didn't want to die like a fucking animal, sent to its slaughter."

Maybe this was going to get me into trouble; saying that was like saying these Games were barbaric and awful. Which they were. But I didn't care what Snow might think about it; I didn't have to care about anything anymore.

"What was your favorite part in the Games?" Caesar asked.

"Well, there were so many fun things in this Games," I replied sarcastically, though I wasn't sure the stupid citizens in the Capitol realized I was being sarcastic. "I mean, there was the time when I cut off this girl's body parts, and the time with the bugs, and the boy with the whip… so many nice things, really, I can't pick one."

The crowd cheered approvingly. Fucking morons.

"So now, that you won the Games, who are you coming back to?" Caesar asked his last question.

I looked at the camera with a blank, emotionless expression. "No one," I said simply. "I don't have anyone to come back to."

Some of the people in the crowd sobbed. I wanted to puke all over them.

I was free to go then, and some of the people in the crowd wanted to come to me, talk to me. I shooed them away, telling them to go to hell. They looked offended, but I didn't care.

The only thing I cared about was coming back to District Seven, as a victor. No more orphan Johanna, no more stupid Sabrina ordering me around. I wasn't poor anymore, I wasn't helpless.

But I was broken; I had no one I liked, no one I cared about, no one to care about me. I was alone, now more than ever.

These Games… they made me stronger in some parts, made my heart thicker, made my body tougher.

But it weakened me mentally.

My desire to not get killed turned me into a killer.

And I knew that the deaths of the people I killed or watched dying will forever be inside of me, that their screams will hunt me every night.

But I had to keep my appearance, that I was okay and that nothing bothered me, especially not something as inferior as death.

Because I was Johanna Mason, the uncaring bitch.

And I knew it would be simpler letting everyone assume that about me rather than making everyone realize that I actually do care.

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><p><strong>So, this was the final chapter, the ending of Keep Holding On! Please review and tell me what you thought of the story and if you liked it :)<strong>

**A very big Thank You to all of the people who read, reviewed and added this story to their favorites/alerts! Really, thank you guys :D**

**Hope you all have a lovely day :)**


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